What I Miss Most

Poetry by Lewis Leicher Why, when I close my eyes, do I still see a city? Buildings piled high, bees flying from dumpster to dumpster, yellow cabs blooming in the streets. Mid-July in Manhattan, 90° by 10:00 A.M.—the cracked sidewalks, trying to perfect their tans, are getting sunburned. No air conditioning at home, I go … Read More

December 1972

Poetry by Lewis Leicher We all have personal landmarks—public places that matter to us for private reasons, with no brass plaques to say why. My favorite was the big wooden phone booth, in the lobby of a midtown New York hotel, where I first really kissed a girl             I was in love with, in December … Read More

When I Was Five

Poetry by Lewis Leicher When I was five, I accidently learned how to ride a bike without training wheels: those miniature rear tires became loose enough to slide backward and lift up from the sidewalk, no longer providing any training. I wasn’t an intrepid kid … risk-taking did not come easily to me (still doesn’t)—I’d … Read More

Ninety Miles from Normal

Nonfiction by Christina Dillow Forty-five minutes had passed when the compact helicopter crossed over the county line intersecting the Las Padres National Forest with the sea. Vaguely aware of my circumstances, I lay swaddled in a thick medic bag, unable to move. Beeping gauges and gurgling IV bags dangled above me in a symphony of … Read More

I think to call sometimes to explain

Poetry by Andréa Ferrell Gannon to repaint the swimming pool and sky for you,             Hockney blue and shadowless behind my dad’s apartment. Remember phoning nightly? Meet me, code for walk half the road for me.             Those horrid June bugs, big as beach balls, pinwheeling between lamplight and starlight.             We clung to each other but delighted … Read More

As If I Knew What I Was Doing

Poetry by Andréa Ferrell Gannon I caught four metros to get to your white sand,                planted my ass, waited patient as moonlight, faced the sea, an ear cocked to catch the glassy                splinter of your approach. You asked, Why’d you come? I asked, Why’d you, motherfucker? Words nudged us                to the center of a Venn diagram, … Read More

Abecedarian for an Inheritance

Poetry by Andréa Ferrell Gannon April, boxing Mother’s estate: bundles of crayon drawings, baby books, and Hallmark cards. Congratulations! a baby girl. You’re disappointed—but she’ll be Daddy’s every happiness. Date ordered, filed docs: our relation’s gangster days in evidence, gay-bashing, road raging, steroid hazes. For Dad: parole forms, prison intakes: Rolaids, belt, watch, wallet. How they … Read More

The Stoic Parent

Nonfiction by T.K. Schuberth “The Stoic Parent” received an Honorable Mention in the 2024 Golden Quill Writing Contest. Early on in the [Covid] crisis, I picked up Marcus Aurelius and for the first time in my life read his Meditations not as an academic exercise, nor in pursuit of pleasure, but with the same attitude … Read More

The Mary Taft Mystery

Fiction by Kevin Carver The first thing you need to know is that Momma changed the world. This was back when America was young, in the 1980s. We pumped our gasoline before we paid for it. You believe that? It’s true. Total honor system. Momma’d grip the hose handle with a polite wave to whichever … Read More

A New Tune

Poetry by Misty Wycoff I imagine myself in a hallway, outside a music room with a piano, hearing but not seeing a small girl beating out the high notes both hands in flight. The plunking, clinking of the black and whites filter into the day, surround me, pairing themselves with my heart’s new rhythm. Weeks … Read More