Lisa McCool-Grime Senior Poetry Editor In 2007, I was visiting my friend Owen at his art show: portraits on the grandest scale done in aerosol on 8′ x 8′ panels. It was the last hour of the last day of…
Poetry by Nikia Chaney
lie to him, listen
to the hummingbirds, lay
in bed a bit longer, laugh
and pretend to hate the smell
of heat and give over the thought
of this call x
Poetry by Kate LaDew
I am in my apartment, wondering if it’s time to go home, if it’s normal,
safe to see my parents so often, to waste money on two rooms that clutch with fingers.
reading the bible in short bursts, completing some prerequisite of childhood,
I listen as Jacob is close to blaspheming x
“I haven’t thought about why there aren’t a lot of poems about being a father by male poets. I don’t know why that is. But (he laughts) I would be happy to be called one of the first poets to go into that area.”
Inner villanelle of a father-to-be without his Xanax
Father-to-be, you are not a villain.
Hell, black bile does not blackball from mating.
But you know, they’ll be your children
Fiction by Thomas Kearnes
Tweak makes you ambitious. You fire off paragraph-length texts to friends you haven’t seen in months. You have marathon online chats with guys you’d love to fuck but know will flake. You disclose your extensive sexual history to men whose first names elude you. Our host Adam is higher than all the saints, has been for three days. This explains why some skinny dude stands before us, slipping off his Peanuts T-shirt with an enthusiasm that saddens me like last call on a Saturday night.
So full that sort of knowing—
the sudden finality of a truth
as crisp and resonate as Beethoven deaf
ear to the floor of your late thirties.
The cats sleep through the walls
listening for a snap or shuffle or fugue
while the old trees in the yard beg for alms
against the back windows—just redone this summer j
Nonfiction by Mary Catherine Owen
“1977 film in which Luke Skywalker uses the Force in the struggle between the royal houses of York & Lancaster.”
I know this one. “Before & After” is the category; I do well on these clues anyway, but my obsessive preparation for the Jeopardy! College Championship audition led me to go over all the questions and answers (or rather, answers and questions) of the past five years of championship games. This clue was used in 2004.
Most dances are cries. Try to pin them in place.
Look away from ash—a boy and a girl
loving that boy: screams and statues
flash-frozen against a night sky bleached white.
Fiction by Benjamin Roesch
Linda and Roger weren’t married anymore. They weren’t officially divorced yet, either, but it was only a matter of time. And she’d only invited Roger over to co-sign on the loan for the art gallery she was trying to open. Neither sex with him, nor his sudden death at the ripe age of forty-three, had been on the agenda.
Poetry by J. Joseph Kane
The sword fighting was,
like most traditions, ill-advised.
The blades were real,
one a samurai the other a Greek replica,
edges sharpened .
Nonfiction by Christi R. Suzanne
I stood on the Hawthorne Bridge overlooking the Willamette River and imagined my death. I felt the chill on my tear-streaked cheeks as the wind blew against them. The feeling of being suspended in time dulled my senses. I tried to call my boyfriend. No answer. Maybe next time he’ll answer. I called again. No answer. I left a message and hung up.