Paul Smith

      The Mattress Conspiracy   None of us saw it coming.  It was slow and subtle.  First, a lot of small stores went out of business.  We wouldn’t miss them.  They were tiny – nail salons, currency exchanges, party stores, boutiques, all of them...

Patri Wright

  It Starts with Her Awkward Hairline the bit behind her ear, along the bone, I accidentally on purpose stroke as the comb starts to move freely. Her head between my knees, a kiss on her lobe — something she wouldn’t get in a salon — and fingers that look for...

M. G. Stephens

    Missing Silverware Phantoms annoy my memory palace Late at night into early morning light, Streeling through the halls like banshee, they sing Dissonantly and claim to be me Or my siblings or old friends and lovers, Even to aping our gestures, taking Our...

Emily Oldham

      Love Love speaks in a manna-song, one that God might try on prophets. Don’t guess and tell, it says. You stumble down and through the gaping cave, giddy with self-consciousness and breathless ephemera. Don’t ask, says Love. Don’t assume. So you...

Robin Houghton

      Tying the bowline Slipped back on itself through the first loop, the rope forms a round window. You’re halfway in. Slick as a snake charmer you guide your needle point to pierce the eye, that tooth-shaped space, as words unravel me until nothing...