Tag Archive
Rough Draft
Poetry by Teresa Chuc Dowell
The word, though spelled incorrectly, is mine. I cross it out in my own time and in its space, the brown earth, I will grow flowers, fruit trees, or lettuce. I am a rough draft, cursive drawn on paper with a pen and my left hand rubs over the ink.. »
Melatonin
a story by Jd Hamilton
Brett goes to war and comes back as a folded flag. There’s a check too, for a little over $38,000. Brett’s life insurance after government taxes. Dad puts that money in the bank and says it’s for my college fund. Coming home early from school one day I watch Mom through the kitchen window cut the flag to pieces. Shreds of red, white, and blue scattered about the linoleum. »
Two Street, January First
poetry by Paul Siegell
football buffs / in Philadelphia’s aviaries vault the beer-can
casualties / of another round of fumbled punt returns.
parking authority tyrants / toy with every block possible
along Philadelphia’s / deliriousness of cobblestone.
such miserable hospital cafeteria coffee in Philadelphia’s. »
Note from the Editor
Over the next few months you will read work from our latest reading period (October 1, 2011-December 1, 2011). It is thanks to your enthusiasm as readers and the quality of work you continue to send as submitters, that we keep doing this. Thanks to you, our current collection is without doubt more impressive, more raw, more bright, and more us than any. »
Something My Mother Told Me This Morning on the Phone
If you don’t see the light, don’t stay.
poetry by Nahshon Cook
Bangkok, Thailand
12/26/2010
. . »
Membrane or Mechanism
(Poetry by Breean Lowe)
Membrane or mechanism
is the tide, pulled places.
Sea to bay, bay by breezes,
just as we move on land
toward a view of the city. »
reasons not to swim at night
Poetry by Giuseppe Infante
in a cardboard box near the beach’s massive stones rests empty bottles of sugar cane soda or 30 cents for the weekly bottle collector with filth ridden dingy fingernails. ruined vacation in malibu. »
The Produce Aisle
Poetry by Laurel N.
Do not buy the lettuce
those frothy topped leaves
are festering with bugs.
Soft-bodied caterpillars follow
their jaws dragging their bulging
green weight. Imagine. »
Systematic Removal and All It Leaves Me
Poetry by Joey Connelly
…
I am. no other gods. name in vain. Thou shalt not. Thou shalt. Remember the day. Honor. kill. commit. not. Thou shalt witness. covet.
I am. Remember. Commit. Honor. Witness.. »
A Skeptic at Night
Poetry by Lia Greenwell, for Tyler Clementi
When there is heaviness at the end of a day, I sometimes catch myself in
accidental prayer. “God–” my mouth will drop, like a pearl rosary bead falling
from my tongue. »
Dear OKCupid,
I am married to a man,
and while I am looking more
for a girl to kiss than
“just friends”,
I would appreciate it
if you found a way
to discourage
old Oklahoman dudes
from masturbating
to fantasies
of me traveling
to fuck them
like their wives won’t.
-poetry by Katie Moore. »
Call for Submissions: Open Reading from October 1-December 1
The Splinter Generation, a literary journal for and about people born between 1973 and 1993, has begun its next reading period and is now accepting submissions for creative nonfiction, fiction and poetry from October 1-December. »


