By Jen Anthony
The artist inside her cried every time Nelson Kennedy unveiled another painting. “How exquisite,” she said. “The conjunction of brushstrokes shows a clear focus by the artist.”She didn’t choke, she didn’t stutter, or even pause at the use–misuse–of the word “artist.”It was her job; no one could fault her for that.And she had much practice… Continue reading The Business of Art
Just a couple of nameless men, sitting together in a booth. The restaurant is dimly lit, but there isn’t much to see anyway. If you squinted through the stale cigarette smoke, you would see faded posters of New York on the walls, and beneath that a grimy wallpaper displaying what was once red stripes.The booth… Continue reading That feeling you have
but can never explain
He had the most piercing green eyes. It was only a passing moment on those dirty steps to the train platform. He looked right into me and I felt like this had happened before. Like we had happened before. He was a stranger though; I knew him less then a minute. But in that time… Continue reading The Memory of Him
By Kyle Young
Joseph had hoped this night would be quiet. It seemed to him that shifts like those were becoming pleasant surprises when they happened. “Zimmerman!”The sound of his captain’s voice shook him.“You’ll be on your own for a while. I’ve got orders to head back to the barracks. Stay alert.” With that, Joseph’s captain had turned… Continue reading Bethlehem
By Pat Horner
1. the bond is a force that holds atoms together within a molecule. these bonds are electric in nature.our eyes are drawnto the sharp ridgedividing the snow coveredsouth slope from thesteep dark rock ofthe north though omittedfrom view the suncasts a yellow glowon the blue whitelight of the mountainas our thoughts driftup the fissures inice… Continue reading Shell
sudden brown shoulderbrushed with watch cough and snort. flag at full mast incessantly hum buildings and traffic. wrought ironpetroleum leaves fall and covered in the in the most. in the most viscous liquidexempting only clouds exhausted on wheat fields with a hair cut.growing bread for the breaking shirt off back old men getting sunburns in… Continue reading Elegy for Grain Dust
By Katie Forman
You roll over and expose The vulnerable landscape:Notch rocks in the river, flowingUnder brittle islands,Down through twin curvesDusted in cold.And I’m so easy ready With toy daggers retracting on the crust. And failing, To dig you out
En- .hands press ed fingers intertwine d [caught] in hot damp matts Surr arms ounding frozen in the act of pulling impossiblycloser nosenose and shared breaths inhale d newly thicken ed a i r bLrEaGiSd skin sticky PIECE -closed
By Erin Bidlake
sunday ritual on pbs: the joy of bob ross. midge, arthritic legs swung over the arm of her lazy-boy, i sat at her elbow. we lived for this: bob ross creating order in the world between newcasts, we watched his hands tap and brush, ten inch afro, greying. happy valley, happy pine. he was a… Continue reading bob ross, helluva guy
Helen is probably 35. She wears her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head. There are times where it’s partially unraveled like a ball of yarn. The frayed brown ends pulled out. It’s more than likely she’s married; there’s calm in her hands, she never fidgets with the orders and she… Continue reading Drive-thru