by Jeffrey Zable
Upon awakening, I had this hopeless feeling that nothing mattered—
mainly, that my life didn’t matter!
I have awakened with this feeling many times before and have just
made myself push through it—especially when I was working or had
something important to take care of.
by Ainsley Dodson
well my mother?
she was born here
she was born with a hernia
that’s not a metaphor
by Curt Hill
Another cold morning here.
I think of the unhoused,
Where do they go as the temperature
drops and the rains come?
by Stacia Laroche
Back when I was a 12-year old living in the warm rays of my youthful golden days, I used to sit on my rickety front porch steps with a disposable camera in hand taking pictures of every classic car that drove down our suburban street. The first car I ever captured was a 1957 Buick Roadmaster.
I was captivated by that car because driving it in a time period that it didn’t belong in meant you were taking a risk. It was a deep green, the same shade that belonged to leaves in the forest after returning from the winter. The kind you don’t remember seeing blossom. All of a sudden they’re just there again.
Read More »by Olivia Burgess
Read More »Funny, how
easy it is to call somewhere ‘home’ when it feels the same way
by Mitch Estern
nothing interests me—
not even the dark,
nor the scorching hell,
nor the fields afar.
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