Fiction

Poetry

50s Dresses

Floral straight jackets hiding women
It’s too pretty to get dirty.

Short Story

Fall Cranes

Back home, my sister’s bedroom overlooked our back deck. She could climb out her windowsill and drop down a few feet onto the wooden planks

Fiction

Violets Are Blue

Bending at the knees, Camilla crouched down to view the lipsticks on the lowest shelf of the drug store cosmetic aisle. The hem of her black dress grazed the linoleum floor as her fingers hovered over the edge of the shelf.

Poetry

Godland: Sammie Jo

Sammie Jo don’t talk much. Her mother like to cut out her tongue any time she speaks up. A bone outta socket. As big as

Poetry

Home No More

I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet