Mouth
by Erica Goss What desires us most enters through the mouth: consider breath, with its vital repetitions; and if the esophagus is the top of a
This is a Wild Place
by Erica Goss On the last day of winter, my car, filled with chaff and spare parts, fits neatly in its painted slot, a motion box, stopped. The
Game
by J. B. Sisson In life’s peculiar game of hit or miss, whatever happens, you’re supposed to say, “It doesn’t get any better than this.” Who
When Enos Slaughter
by David Moreau scored from first on a single to win the Cardinals the seventh game of the 1946 World Series the Boston shortstop got the blame —
Skiing the Old Farm at Night
by Christopher Seid The ruts of my two skis fill with shadow, blue ash from the full moon’s burn. The dogs run ahead to wrestle ghost dogs
Letter to Pavlov’s Dog
by Marija Sanderling How does it feel To live with this mad Russian On whom we pay homage For because of him And because of you We now know A