Journal

David Kirby

Hello, I Love You When I want to power up, I use my witchy voice and say, All hail, Macbeth,…

2 years ago

Tricia Knoll

Compassion Colors I figured this morning’s work would be blues writing. My friend’s son died the other night according to…

2 years ago

Linda Laderman

Today Would Have Been Our 50th Anniversary A mixed marriage. Clergy shuns us. The judge shushes us. I sentence you…

2 years ago

Kurt Luchs

No Reason This morning for no reason at all joy wells up inside me, joy beams from my eyes and…

2 years ago

David Memmott

Mother Worship 1. We’ve come too far to turn back now. The blue camas shimmering like a pluvial lake. We…

2 years ago

Stacy Boe Miller

It Was the Summer of Hard Tomatoes sucking into themselves like I shied inward when asked, How is your father? like…

2 years ago

Kathryn Moll

Frijoles Negros I comb my sieve for pebbles. Set beans to soak. Ready cast-iron—in Cambridge, as in California. Listing winter…

2 years ago

John C. Morrison

Tomato Ghazal Every year we wait for the summer’s first tomato. We lived in little sunshine with a thirst for…

2 years ago