Comfort in the Unknown by Emily Littlewood
Like a lot of people, I’ve dealt with health issues my whole life. I have cystic fibrosis, which comes with a cornucopia of symptoms, like deteriorating ability to breathe, IV antibiotics, collapsed lungs, port-a-caths and, oh right, a double lung transplant. I’ve done my best to roll with the punches, especially after being given a second chance at life, but then, a few months ago at forty-two, I woke up completely unable to control my hand. I’m not sure if the fact that my limp hand was completely useless was just so weird, or because … Continue reading Comfort in the Unknown by Emily Littlewood
A Place to Hold Us by Sharon Perkins Ackerman
I ready myself to read poetry for a group of graduate students. They’ve had the ingenuity to find an old, abandoned chapel near campus and turn it into a poetry space. Eavesdropping from a pew, I find myself listening once again to choruses of before; before the first published book, before marriages and mortgages and self-support. There are lots of munchies—I’ve forgotten how hungry students are, how irregular the meals. There are students reading poems from phones rather than spiral notebooks, whose edges might as well be the coiling of years between us. There is … Continue reading A Place to Hold Us by Sharon Perkins Ackerman
Father’s Day in Bujumbura by Alex Joyner
She said she knew that it was Father’s Day in the U.S. and she began to tell me a story from the back seat as we bounced down rough dirt roads on the way to the church. I twisted in the passenger seat to watch her face even though the streets of Bujumbura were a captivating sight. Three-wheeled tuk-tuks competed with overladen bicycles and military trucks for space between deep ditches. A man walked along the side of the road with a stack of foam mattresses on his head, seven high. Another navigated his bike … Continue reading Father’s Day in Bujumbura by Alex Joyner
The Varied Works by Matthew Morpheus
I grew up in Ukraine, the heart of the freedom-loving Cossacks, surrounded by the rich cultural heritage of my people who had a strong influence on my artistic path. My interest in art began at a young age, soaking up the diverse visual images I encountered on a daily basis. Instead of formal art classes, I learnt on the streets, where vibrant graffiti and street art became my school. I travelled extensively, absorbing the diverse art styles of the places I lived in, including Israel and the UK. My journey in art began with … Continue reading The Varied Works by Matthew Morpheus
Self Driving to Eternity by Chibuike Ukah
I stretched out my legs before me, ready to bury my dead bodies, when my boss invited me to his office and made me an immoral offer. He pleaded with me with a blackface and with eyes tinier than the mustard seed, that he would appreciate my help were I prepared to offer it to him. He would be grateful if I killed myself; so calm and gentle like lilac was he when he laid down a body-worn camera on the table and asked me to drive it wherever I went. I carried it with … Continue reading Self Driving to Eternity by Chibuike Ukah
Slugger by Walter Lawn
I know a story they left out of her obituary. In the late 1970s and early 80s I worked in the Development Department at The Franklin Institute, the Philadelphia science & industry museum. Stanley Pearson worked in the same department. We were an odd pair. I was in my twenties, liberal, struggling to support my wife and me while she was in grad school; for fun, I spent my free time programming an early CP/M microcomputer. Stan was in his sixties, conservative, a part of the network of Princeton alumni who ran Philadelphia business and … Continue reading Slugger by Walter Lawn
Questions to Ask a Poem by Fred Wilbur
Poem, come in, sit down. How are you getting along? Are people reading your ordinary troubles? Let’s talk about that. (I hear my fatherly voice: pledged to do no harm.) Let’s first talk about your literal surface. The reader can’t know a poem at first glance, by appearances, I assure you. Don’t worry about snap judgements. You look comfortable on the page today. Is that safe to say? You might be a narrative, let’s say, or a description, a reminiscence, an emotional plea, a philosophical dialectic perhaps, or a political screed. Want to talk about … Continue reading Questions to Ask a Poem by Fred Wilbur
A Plum on a Tree by Roselyn Elliott
In the ER, we try to save them all, yet, each death of a stranger is a small death inside me, an accumulation of failed effort that cripples imagination, cripples empathy, presses the dream closed. Still, each departure can be a small reprieve from holding back the flood of sick and injured souls, a momentary opportunity to draw breath deeply. Running along beside a stretcher down a corridor trying to pump a man’s chest. His eyes already glazing over, he won’t revive. I feel nothing. Evolved into a numb creature, I see only shadows, … Continue reading A Plum on a Tree by Roselyn Elliott
Lily is Safe by Elisa Wood
Coming down from the redwood forest, where majestic trees defy rusted Coke signs and dead gas stations, we drive, curve after curve, in daylight darkness, with flashes of sunlight through the deep green. Then the dream fades as the landscape diminishes into dry grasses, straighter roads, and the offer of something to eat somewhere you wouldn’t want to go. An exit sign emerges, “Ferndale,” and I remember hearing about a hidden Victorian village. So we turn off the main road because that often seems like the right thing to do. But there is no immediate … Continue reading Lily is Safe by Elisa Wood
Ignorance by Michael Penny
When I encounter a word I don’t know I check the books and screens. Even after that, there remain words I cannot find the meaning of. Some are multisyllabic thefts from languages not mine. Some might be mis-spellings or typos that look correct until not. Some congregate in sentences but so many just sit there refusing to surrender meaning. And then there are the words I always thought I knew: tree, rain, stone, island, myself. Michael Penny was born in Australia and now lives on an island near Vancouver, BC. He pursues his interest in … Continue reading Ignorance by Michael Penny