Poems by Sandra Kolankiewicz FollowFollowFollow Masterpiece In the painting, he is about to getwhat each time is his heart’s desire: access, the surge, the insecurity turninginto affirmation, fulfillment, release. Her face shows she feels it too. She is thefruit bowl...
The Women I Remember by Sarah Cooke FollowFollowFollow The Women I Remember I awoke to shoutingand shadows cast by a small fireat the far end of the room.They say memory is a temple to a past best seenwith technicolor eyes. But I remember the storiesabout fires at...
Eye for an Eye by Elaine Sorrentino FollowFollowFollow Eye for an Eye———–post radiation After I silently counted the last “six Mississippi”under the linear accelerator,lowered my armsand rolled off the table,the technician tosseda fistful of...
WHITE BOYS THINK THEY OWN ALL THE CREEKS by Leah Jones FollowFollowFollow WHITE BOYS THINK THEY OWN ALL THE CREEKS But not the mud in the bend of the road creekIt’s the field feedin’...
Infinity Pond by Carol Sadtler FollowFollowFollow Infinity Pond lap upon lap, around and backin sparkling aqua circlesour rhythmic kicks aeratewater into froth—arms dipin synchrony—propeljoy we are beautiful in our blue and greenswimsuits—my younger sister and I—like...
Women’s Embodied Self: Feminist Perspectives on Identity and Image by Joan C. Chrisler and Ingrid Johnston-Robledo FollowFollowFollow Women’s Embodied Self: Feminist Perspectives on Identity and Imageby Joan C. Chrisler and Ingrid Johnston-Robledo American...
Deception by Leslie Tucker FollowFollowFollow The day I met Anna went like this. Big friendly smile, “Hi, I’m Anna, can you believe these streets are such a mess?” I opened my mouth but before I could speak she shook her head, patted her protruding belly and chuckled....
A Room Without Windows by Lily Beeson-Norwitz FollowFollowFollow I once counted my heartbeats and mistook them for yours. I sat up straight when you entered the room and offered you my body without opening my mouth. When your eyes glanced toward me, I looked down and...
Recipe for Forgiveness by Julie Lockhart FollowFollowFollow My mother loved to tell. She would place the stool in the tiny kitchen and tell me to watch her cook. She’d never let me cook or bake by myself. No, you would make a big mess, she’d tell me. I can still hear...
Snapshots of a Past By Clara Oropeza FollowFollowFollow In the dream, you are a passenger inside a car that turns right onto the sleepy cul-de-sac of Bierenberg Place. On the left, you recognize the two-story brick house that sits behind a low-picket wooden fence...
