The Cafe Review

by Daisy Zamora Streetcar, San Francisco translated from Spanish by George Evans A black guy shakes an empty potato chip can begging

by Daisy Zamora When I See Them Passing By translated from Spanish by George Evans When I see them passing by I sometimes ask myself: What must

by Daisy Zamora Senior Special at the Tennessee Grill translated from Spanish by George Evans Here they make landfall

by Kim Addonizio It’s bad luck to break a cricket or a baby, bad to open an evil spirit in the house or refuse a kiss if it’s offered with a pot

by Megan Grumbling Entreated with white limbs and gall, he came late, the next morning, glutton that he is for irony, false maidens. Choose your

by Megan Grumbling With broomstick, plumb between the claws’ dark troth of shriveled dregs and trawl it out of there, thing, thought, and all

by Megan Grumbling I sky it high the white as if a child lay giggling here beneath, breathing the light in billows as it settles,

by Peter Bradley It is such a common occurrence that the eyes of others slide over the sight of it with nary a question or raised eyebrow. As if

by Keith Dunlap Among a stand of long dead trees bleached white by the intense salinity of flood waters that consumed the town, a road built in

by Keith Dunlap I have entombed my love poems to you in the moldering casket of your heart. Yet I keep returning to the plot of grass, keep

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