To My Relatives Who Died Before COVID Francine Witte My father who loved the distance. Loved being far from things. From us. My...

Bacon-Wrapped Dates and the Last Word Lindsey Royce Stones pock our dirt road to the end of my vision. There, perspective hones to a...

To Godfrey, the Horse Who Rode My Secret Evangeline Sanders I remember grinding the metal pick into the groove of the hoof, the chipping...

Jungle Scene, New York Style Philip Vassallo Born and bred in New York, I am no shill’s fool, but was I ever had today. I was heading for...

Cherries Doug Holder I was here, there, nowhere... Sitting with a crumpled bag of cherries in Washington Square. Far from the Midtown...

Ass Paul Germano On a crowded dance floor in a trendy club, a slightly-drunk bank teller with an athletic build, shimmies, shakes and...

1969 Ron A. Kalman It was the summer of ’69 and I was 10 years old. I had a friend named Mark who lived in half of a two-family house....

Communion, Spring, 2020 Charles Coe Do you remember those days when we’d all meet at some favorite restaurant? Stepping in from the cold,...

At the Lake House Danny P. Barbare With a clean sheet of paper and a pen filled with ink I remember along a road by blackberries, golden...

Adagio for Heart Strings Lindsey Royce I woke after a delicious weed- induced sleep wholly relaxed, as if my body had forgotten you are...

Be Your Own Literary Hero Chad Parenteau Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Forsake even mirror. Shave according to reflection of sexting roommate...

Chaw Rob Dinsmoor I’m on a converted school bus carrying us from our living quarters—essentially a Super 8 Motel—to the drug and alcohol...