The Cafe Review

by Paul Christensen I was upstairs in Jack’s house on the flat suburban prairies north of Dallas, tossing among the words and muses of his little

by Paul Christensen When Jack said getting his first real job (SMU in Dallas) saved his life, he was like an trapeze artist in the Cirque de

by Ariana Nash I have made a sister of a stone statue, who willows her head into her lap, bending over ferns. She wakes me up in the morning to

by Ralph Angel Were you guilty of something your story would wear a black suit and come to an end. I leave you alone. I mop up the afterlife and

by Jack Myers I’d like to leave a lighter imprint on the world than I’d formerly meant. Just a scent, not the thud of the thing steaming on a

by Jack Myers What’ll I do with my body when I’m dead? The best times I ever had were spent sailing in place so I vote for being buried. But I’ve

by Jack Myers In a program called Survivor Man, the host, after drifting five days at sea, washes up in paradise: there’s your coral reef, the

by Jack Myers 6 a.m. March. Snow flurries. I’m stepping into the Atlantic, gulping fast, get –ready breaths so I can swim furiously, numb

by Jack Myers During my life on earth, I loved being showered by the sun’s colored protons while seagulls screamed and days dredged back and

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