Short Fiction and Poetry

A giant loom with ten thousand bobbins churns out blanket after blanket [...]

how quickly flames are smothered in shadows statuesque marble monuments glint in sunlight for a day [...]

my tongue encircles each stale donut hole in their carton like a thought experiment deep in the folds of memory [...]

Hadn’t been able to look in the mirror For the last couple years or so, Scared of exterior proof His interior was crumbling. [...]

the red cardinal in my apple blossom tree knows not of cardinal sins— it sings its proud songs vehemently [...]

Nina did something That she shouldn’t have done. Giddily, thoughtlessly, she looked for an all staff mailing list For help in her search for an apartment. [...]

I, the peregrine, soaring through azure skies on jet-fueled wings, in search of adventures to quench my wanderlust [...]

The little girl holding her mother’s hand in Times Square says, “I just want to touch one, mama.” [...]

I was gifted to the council in sweetgrass, my ribs displayed finely in the October sun. This child had been birthed from the corroded artery, [...]

Harsh, high-piercing cry of the Black Crow. Crow stares, eyes never blink. Peck…peck breaks apart weakened skin. Don’t wear that hat. [...]

I recognize you in the lines you place on paper in the words you recite to an audience in the hopes you express for creating community [...]

Hi, my name is Rosemarie, who are you? We replied hi to the amiable woman Who then moved her beach chair closer to ours. [...]

Best let bygone days be just that, Bye, gone! Lost in the fire from the crash of the car, All our albums up in flames [...]

The clothes are in the dryer. Hannah is asking for another cookie. My husband pumps his fists as  he reaches another level [...]

he stuffed me with torn weather maps, resin, the molars of birds. hung me up in the hall

The memory is dense: a forest gasping underwater— kelp bowing, spires vanishing into gloom. [...]

I swing my legs over the edge of the Hollywood sign. My nightgown is soaked, silk sticks to my skin. [...]

Black notes on a staff of sky, crows revive fragments of hymns believers have long forgotten. [...]

I am the ghost of Relevance. I hang in this hotel. I don’t care much for fragrances I’ve lost my sense of smell. [...]

This is the elegy I sculpt into cursive with the connective tissue strung between our bodies like a thread and two tin cans [...]