Category: Winter 2011 Issue

Vernal Song
by J. B. Sisson I buried him two years ago today, the first day warm enough to bask outside and watch the fluctuation of the tide and spring’s

Walter’s Canon
by J. B. Sisson This music crept upon me from old Walter, infernal noise of Pachelbel and crew. Walter enlivens his greenhouse next door with

Antlers
by Russell Evatt I found a head in the dirt, eyes open, covered in sand. But no flies and no blood. I should say it was winter, and this the

[ When I speak of death, I do not mean the one ]
by Russell Evatt When I speak of death, I do not mean the one in the ground there, to whose funeral I wore a red shirt because I chose not to

Biting Concern
by Russell Evatt I had a notion today that it feels terrific to die. Finally, that’s over. From the park bench I heard the refined static of

that is your own
by Gabor G. Gyukics during tail-wind the headwind pushes you back only the motion remains your body is searching for the gap your eyes are

whose face it is
by Gabor G. Gyukics the mirror shows a different picture every day the flame shooting out from the fireplace is counting the new arrivals the

it cares not what you’ll become
by Gabor G. Gyukics a cigarette smoulders with you together the wind comes in to fetch the smoke looks around what else there is to take but

Blue Fruit
by Manoli Kouremetis I take your hand, say “soon” — how many times have I said “soon” trapped in traffic and doctors’ waiting rooms? If only I

Abducted Friends
by Manoli Kouremetis Like a ransomer’s note — my memories of you and I squish against one another. Mismatched letters of sentences ill-fitting —