8 Till Late

8 Till Late by Christopher Barnes King Canute rostrums transmissions, Grand view ads, fitful half-light channels. Wizardry reads signals, embodiments In impulsive jumps. At The Golden Filament TV Emporium He’s heart-warmed to overtime, Is sold what to bag When the pay-counting button’s flicked.

Summer Mowing

Summer Mowing by Jennifer Gray He has transformed his Tonka dump truck into a push mower, using lumber scraps and duct tape to construct a handle on the front end of the dump box. One brave screw holds the makeshift contraption together. All summer they outline the edges of these acres, first Daddy, and then, […]


SWAMPIE by John Grey He lived so close to the cypress swamp, the howls, the screeches, the thrashings, of death were as common as bird song. From the deep bass notes of day to the coffin stillness of night, the humid air could not quite smother the inevitable death throes. Could be the squeal of […]

Spring In Remission

Spring In Remission by Noah Gordon I’m thinking of the shy way you walked toward the treeline, and how we talked about the oldest Cave in Illinois, how they boarded it up after a blind child wandered in one afternoon. I’d later return to that day to study the architecture of the thickets and brambles. […]


e pluribus unium by Halifax there are wars but not peaces we oversleep not sleep in conflict is broken into shared pieces reciprocated in kind until a full spread has been laid out peace is portrayed in a field waving like a picnic blanket shaken free of crumbs our keepsake flag obscured by smoke the […]