Lieutenant – KIA

Nonfiction by Lisbeth Prifogle

I get it and I don’t. I think about staying in and volunteering to go to Afghanistan. It’s a right of passage for Marines. It’s a badge of courage. It’s who we are. I can’t explain it, but I understand it. What I don’t understand is that Trevor is dead. He was just a lieutenant. He had his whole life ahead of him. He had a career to jump into, a wife to meet and marry, and children to raise in the suburbs. He had all of that and more, but now it’s over.

Obsequies

Poetry by Joseph Kampff . . . who (while the band-a discourse community-dawdles) attends the whispers and the screams-sonorous harmonic discordances of the Silvertone* . . .] (. . .) [It’s obvious what’s going on here1.] “Omnia mutantur, nos et…

Poems by Lisa McCool-Grime

Are You Kidding Me? Are You Kidding Me:

from BBC interviews with the Westboro Baptist
Church members under the ministry of Fred Phelps

The ultimate smash-mouth in-your-face insult
to God Almighty. He can’t help but lie about the scripture
every time he opens his mouth. No tears for queers.
Not one word falls to the ground, not one of them

Duality

Fiction by Rae Beatrice Nelson

I ran my hand down her ribcage that night. I counted the vertebrae in her spine, there were too many. Collarbones begged to be forced through, to give her some blood for her efforts there.

My Wakeup

The unit gets shipped from the base in Kuwait to Rhein Mein, from there to someplace in Ireland. I spend the flight from Ireland to Charlotte with my legs across the aisle onto the next row of seats. The stewardess doesn’t complain. I’m one of the few who don’t kiss the ground when we land. Another

2 Poems by Krystal Languell

from 56 Etymologies

(4)

A process occurs when you give up your language and start calling things by new names but there is not a term for how new phrases infiltrate your reflex it starts with the gutturals