Issue Sixteen

Shooting Star

Einstein overturned the idea that time is the same everywhere.  Time is relative for a horror movie, for a soccer match. For a storm brewing. You kept windows unfastened, watched a podcast. Our star bent over the tub in the adjoining bathroom; her three-year-old...

He Used to Be Gold

But now, he’s hungry.  Husband walks in, his teeth shining bright, a big smile on his face, like he’s just entered heaven, he throws his jacket on the floor, takes off his shoes, yelling, honey, I’m home, like in the movies, but we’re not in a movie, it’s not...

Memoir in Five Weddings

1. Wedding Poetry We sip steaming mugs of coffee. Stevia keeps mine dark, sweet and mellow in the caverns of my cheeks. Between us, Wallace Stevens lies open on the bed. “Want to hear a poem about a wedding? It’s called ‘Life Is Motion.’” “Sure,” I say, hoping it...

Petra

Hoo-hah! Father and Uncle Ray flap their naked fat bellies and bare feet and red necks around town sucking down beers and setting popsicle stick fires which they pee out. At the fire station they pretend to drive the trucks and wail sirens that mourn the loss of their...

The Last Supper

Before the outlaw couple part ways forever, they empty the refrigerator into the oven. In goes raw chicken. In go carrots. In goes a brick of butter, a pound of beef, and a half gallon of milk. In goes a mystery product wrapped in foil, which lands atop a head of...

Body Heat

Jordan regretted leaving the cult. He missed the scent of familiar bodies, how they huddled together on cold nights. The cabins they built were ill-equipped for Montana winters. Snow swept in beneath window sills, gales slithered through gaps in the shingles. One...

17 Reasons Why

The cable car tracks are singing, sewing alarm into my pulse: Shame! Shame! Shame! I am. Jittering on a couch at Chela’s. Her man is a firefighter. A Chinatown native. Small-time coke dealer. He’s still on duty around the corner, where we spent the last evening. It’s...

Who Cares if We Contaminate the Line?

Cottonwood pods carry me, like snowflakes onto the fertile ground. Around us, origami butterflies and swans decorate the vines of poison ivy plants and cotton mouths loop around, playing our wedding march sonorously slick with singing and sass, punctuated by a tenor...

Little Girl

1. Missouri In each place called home, the lovers, the farm with blue eggs, and the calf being born. Learning that the best branches for whipping are from weeping willows. From the backyard you could see for miles, trace the lines of the fences and county, patches of...

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