The boy stared at the flag-shadow as it waved / from the confluence of the walls and ceiling.
He was in town for some kind of head hunting thing. Whether it was for jobs, or ,white slavery, was anyone’s guess. He didn’t specify. My guess was, it was a combination of both. As the bartender, I often had time for speculation. Observation and speculation. Often times I missed the mark with my guesses… Continue reading Missing
If we are lucky, facts of life will force us to accept the reality of our desires our fears and unleash our innate need to express ourselves, to achieve self-literacy through self-expression, though I live in a world of painful existential questions and threats I do believe in the world, I want to live in… Continue reading Picking Blackberries
Street empty as a healing heart, I lean the patio wall, Swisher Sweet packed with pot, friends equally afraid. Wednesday brings the chill, hawks fleeing ahead. They say it’s a west wind— it carries the desert, it trails a fire. A car scrapes a manhole cover, the squall of a New Depression song rackets from… Continue reading Building A Silence
Under horizon-to-horizon lead, with intermittent rain more mist than drops, we cleave Michigan north to south, driving between stands of pine and birch that go on mile after mile after mile. Well that we ate breakfast and fueled the car before we started, for there is nothing up here, anywhere, there being few exits and… Continue reading Thoughts Along I-75 South
Note from Editor: We are all well aware of the expanding immigrant crisis on our southern border. Virtually every night on the national news we see a fresh clip of migrant children being abused or dying, or tear gas canisters flying toward immigrants seeking to cross our borders, or one politician after another pontificating about… Continue reading Crisis On Our Southern Border
During the summer before her senior year of high school, RJ takes in ironing from the wrinkled upper middle class in her small town. Because her mother is a widow, RJ babysits and irons to earn money for essentials: panty hose, Maybelline, and Beatles 45s. She is not allowed to spend any of The College… Continue reading Expectations
It first appeared as a white patch on the ivy covered wall near an open window of the arts building It caught my eye immediately Like paint spilled on a canvas of green Not high up and easily seen Standard clean paper With words resting on their sides Three corners fixed in… Continue reading The Question of Poetry
No one, and I mean absolutely no one, ever writes anything totally by themselves. I know a few writers who claim they do.