Fiction
A Coffee Can Buried in the Lawn
Leaving the house, I carried the can tight under my arm, like a football.
By John Crawford
Fiction
After The Deluge
We knew it was better just to ignore her, stay out of her way.
By Daniel DiFranco
Fiction
REVOLUTION
With the American girl, I had a chance. Americans do not want to be racist. In Russia we do not care. We are racist.
By H.L.S. Nelson
Non-Fiction
A Broken Arm, a Mended Heart
From the get-go I thought, “this guy is dangerous.”
By Gina DeMillo Wagner
Poetry
Why I Need to Downsize
Because I looked for two months for the wind-chimes.
By Nancy Scott
Poetry
A Still Pond Means Certain Suffocation
last frigid winter the koi pond was a sacrifice
By Phylinda Moore
Column
Tricking Your Monkey Mind into Writing
You’ll have to find out what motivates you
By Aimee LaBrie
Poetry
Is It Better to Sleep
I am trying, I am trying
By Luke Bauerlein
Poetry
Returning Home from the Fertility Clinic
She destroyed the garden in her good pants
By Michael Phillips
Poetry
When Harry Left the Trees
Harry’s wife stopped me and started to
By Fereshteh Sholevar
Poetry
Bundle of White Flowers
Every time I see a bundle of white flowers
By Roy W. Smith
Poetry
Confluence
After a postcard of van Gogh’s “Bedroom at Arles”
By Sean Christopher Hughes
Poetry
September 5, 1957
Jack, I can see you on that New York corner waiting
By Peter Krok
Non-Fiction
A Neighbor Like David
I live across the street from a forty-year-old man with Down syndrome.
By Elizabeth A. Larsson
Poetry
You’ve Been Dreaming about Streetlamps Again
Before the same strange house
By Jin Cordaro
Poetry
Lust
You’ll drizzle rich black sesame oil over everything.
By Jin Cordaro