Eulogy
by Molly M. Caldwell The skin on my father’s calves hangs like a translucent bag full of tiny purple lightning bolts — little blue streams,
Navy Coffee
by Eric Forsbergh Cook! Boil us a pot. Fresh. Or yesterday’s. We don’t care as long as there’s no skin of mold. Better take it bitter. Black.
Language
by Ceridwen Hall There’s an island in the middle of a lake. During summer, boats go back and forth. People bring dogs and bicycles. They circle
Travelogue
by Ceridwen Hall Travelogue Edmonton When I cannot see the earth or hear beyond the roar of the engine, nothing seems real but my cramped
Judgment
by Ronald J. Pelias My sister said on the witness stand her child was just under bad influences; she didn’t think irreparable damage had been
Spiritual Resourcefulness
by Michael Biehl Every time the world ends, he breaks out in loneliness, like chickenpox. Then the world–wheel, creaking, turns again, not