The Cafe Review

by Bill Brown God made everything out of nothing, but the nothingness shows through. — Paul Valery My neighbor stirs around

by Bill Edmondson A clash of whirling galaxies Utter their light through the black of the brain Of a man standing among bones and dust In a weedy

by Mariela Griffor A farewell to a dear friend is never enough. We must bring him flowers, songs with spinning words and good wishes. We must

by Nina Bennett The chemist: Water seeps through the brick, dissolves salts, evaporates, leaves a white crystalline deposit on the surface. The

by David Filer The slough is finally calm, and in the last light, the palisades are doubled, white mist dissipating twice. I was afraid for us

by Maria DiLorenzo who handled their women like art in a museum, forbidden to touch, yet sometimes slyly touched, my grandfather in 1945 kissing

by Polly Giantonio Her shoulder, soft and full as a swan’s breast, illumines homely features in graceful symmetry — ivory beauty with reticent

by Kevin Sweeney My pal David had the shits last night and doesn’t drive so I took him to the dentist, past the Congregational church on Woodford

by Kevin Sweeney She sat on the right, was willing to answer questions which, nights in July, met silence from others, gave me an enthusiastic Hi

by Kevin Sweeney I felt she was cheating on me that afternoon in front of Melman’s Market. I was a limp 14. The boy holding her hand looked 17.

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