I Have Lots of Hearts
by Adam Scheffler I have lots of hearts, it’s grisly. I leave them bloody, soaking the pillow. I keep them in a drawer where they turn gray. It’s
How is it?
by Tom Saya How is it all those worlds out there don’t collide, obliterating each other? or given the great distances, how is it without
Fayetteville Drum Room, 1995
by Kevin Rabas That night, I snuck into the practice room, the drums crumpled up. I had sticks. I played the low tom first, called on my heart
Debtless
by Kevin Rabas When the loan officer shakes my hand, his hand is a big mitt, ham shank, boxer’s big thick grip, and, though he’s kindly, he’s
My Son
by Greg McBride A toddler sprawls across his mother’s slim and lovely lap, his hair a reddish gold, his face a whim of freckles. His hands softly
Moving Day
by Greg McBride It was a moving day, the barn–raising commune of that time. Afterward, we all milled about her new apartment, mugs and