Fiction
You said we needed a cage. We found one at a thrift store. It was a round cage with a big domed top that reminded me of a mosque or a Russian church.
Fiction
You wake up to yelling from downstairs, just like yesterday. You find your glasses on the nightstand and feel the world come back into focus.
Fiction
Mr. Salameh Gets Drunk at the Wedding
There was a man in the ballroom of the Sheraton wearing a skirt.
Fiction
My grandmother fancied herself a glamorous woman, an old-fashioned movie star, but in fact she weighed seventy-nine pounds and had ropes of veins running up her arms.
Non-Fiction
The tears started welling up as I watched another man drive off with my dog, Bewley.
Poetry
Springtime in Philly: A Mirror Sonnet
Wake crocuses—push through crumbling asphalt; purr and croon, slumbering cats curled like snails—
Poetry
Mama and the Clothesline/Tuckahoe 2001
She bent slowly, grabbin the damp bedsheet from the laundry basket.
Poetry
A Widow Learns About Mars, Molten At Its Core
Even now, is it possible to consider the self-original: the source from which something arises?
Poetry
The talk-radio host is provoking listeners to weigh in on what language we believe acts as the official discourse in hell.
Poetry
Becoming intimate with spirits, I put my ear to the ground and listen to the ocean rumble
Poetry
Haibun After a Tornado in Pennsylvania
The late summer brings forth baseball, roses, and wreckage. A chainsaw roars.
Poetry
In Fairmount Park the Canada geese migrate from the west side of the river to the east
Poetry
For the Living on 12th/Catharine
At the park a birthday picnic glitters safe as a mirage: soap bubbles float slow