Fiction

Poetry

Marge Simpson

Knows the heart ache of canaries. Hummimg bird to spilt milk No friends same dress Pearls that rarely dance Five dollar rose bouquets Without a

Poetry

The God in the Attic

In our attic, among things, as it seems of past lives, lives a bitter God. When guests come to our house, we don’t mention him.

Fiction

Falling Short

I saw everyone, having fallen short, on the ground

Poetry

Thunder Polka

The thunder polka of a new romance Began today on my left foot, the one Believed to lead suggestiveness astray. True love’s a waltz: it’s

Poetry

Skirt

I. I see a video of women cycling in short dresses talking of how not to flash. They wide-angled their legs, pull the back of

Fiction

Marketplace

The listing requires dimensions, and so there is the inevitable internal struggle. Laziness. Disorganization… Cannot find the measuring tape. Can she guess its proper size?