Fiction

Poetry

Where’s Nana?

She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of

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

50s Dresses

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

Fiction

The Sacrifice

Hauling my suitcase up the unevenly-paved alley, I glance at the second-storey room I share with Komal. Against twilight’s midnight blue, our window glows white.

Short Story

At the Beach

  It was difficult getting everything together but she wanted to do it for Yacov. The jaundice had left her weak, drained, and the enervating

Poetry

Cold Lights

Outside my window there is steam
and there are lights in a skyscraper
where people sit at their desks
and the lights let them work.