photo of red jell-o shot

Two Poems by Robert Beveridge

The Bearer’s Pint Flash of tongue trails over pink lip matches your top flowered, loose in all the right places not quite to your jeans. The kiss can be deadly but is oh so delicious. Roman legions, it is said, used it as a rite of passage a toast of manhood. The Gelatissassin (after Hendrixson)…

photo of heart-shaped topiary

The Tunnel of Love by Chris Daley

I was taken aback when Mr. Medvedev gave me the news: my elderly neighbor Lidiya Silchencko had died and made me executor of her estate. I didn’t know her very well. Occasionally, I had asked her to feed my cat when I would go to St. Petersburg on business, and once I picked up her…

photo of fish packed in ice

Love, Pan-Fried by Megan Crosbie

You always said I loved you too much, and I guess you were right. You said it again that day by the pond, when you told me how you weren’t responsible for my happiness and your eyes matched the water, sun-speckled and murky. That day when I loved you so hard that you exploded into…

photo of a cow

Stolen Pleasures by Lise Colas

Taken from the larder on a sultry summer’s day, generous pats of best Epping butter, delivered by Mr Thackeray every second Tuesday in the month. Sly taste of salty gold on the tip of a rounded silver blade. Spread thick, without thought of the dwindling scraps left behind in the dinky blue and white butter…

photo of yellow subway car in station

Before by Tara Isabel Zambrano

Sometimes, Neil and I’d meet for lunch in a small Indian restaurant that served astonishingly delicious lamb curry with rice crepes. The waiter was a tall Sikh who often gave us privacy and a discount. We’d sit outside and watch the clouds swirl in the sky, our finger tips stained with tomato-turmeric sauce. On our…

photo of a bear

Two Poems by Jeff Whitney

Perpetual Country (Blood) It’s ok to be out of rivers and weak. Even today, wind troubling the lake’s thin chemise, two green birds kissing on a soldier’s cap, a Kansas calf’s warm blood misting the bullet   made miraculous by speed. We fail so perfectly as if it were designed. Sugar and sex the closest…

book cover for author Michelle Ross' story collection

Fiction that Multitasks: An Interview with Michelle Ross

Reading a writer for the first time is like making a new friend. As you delve into the work, the writer’s unique voice and sensibilities become familiar, and over time, even when you put the book aside, the rhythm of the writer’s sentences linger in your consciousness, much like a friend’s voice pops into your…

photo of girl with dark hair covering her face

Borealis by William C. Blome

The Indian girl in the bright green dress from down, down Madras way; the Indian girl with an overbite, hairy arms, and brassy coins; the Indian girl who’s somewhat tiresome at the zoo with her “let’s-stay-here-till-closing-time” chant in front of the great sandbox turtles and a rhino call home; oh the Indian girl whose voice…

photo of trilobite

A Benthic Wunderkind by John Gorman

Sweta caught me picking lint from my belly button. I was blessed with an innie. She didn’t bother looking away, and I gave her oodles of credit for that. You’d think, in a scenario like this, we were lounging poolside or finishing up a 10K in the park, but nope. We were both at one…

photo of crescent moon

0500 by Miriam Alexander-Kumaradoss

At 5AM, when I’ve been up all night, a wind sometimes rushes through the garden and sets branches and stalks rustling against each other. Sometimes I’ll be wandering through the house when this happens and I’ll stop in front of a window and watch them undulate. Sometimes the moon is just a fingernail in the…