Unaligned. In a Forgotten Wind. by A. J. Huffman
Confessional by Brendan Sullivan
Bird by Ivy Page
Out With The Girls by John David Muth
Driving Into November by John T. Hitchner
Even At The End by Matthew Rodgers
Egyptian Night by Roger Singer
They Sent Him For Pills by Timothy B. Dodd
Morning’s Choice by Valentina Cano
No Control by Elizabeth Swados
Fall/Winter 2013 #12 Vol 9
Cover art by Rex Sexton
~ Poetry ~
James Valvis lives in Issaquah, Washington. Publishing for over two decades, his work has recently appeared in 5 AM, Confrontation, Crab Creek Review, Green Hills Literary Lantern, Nimrod, Rattle, Red Fez, Southern Indiana Review, and is forthcoming in Arts & Letters, Atlanta Review, Catalonian Review, Crab Creek Review, Gargoyle, Hanging Loose, Los Angeles Review, Midwest Quarterly, New York Quarterly, Pank, South Carolina Review, and elsewhere. A book-length collection of his poems is due from Aortic Books.
Love is a grave mental disease."
Here I was going along all these years,
thinking myself to be a good son, husband, father,
when all along I was just another nutcase.
I wish I had found this out sooner.
I might have killed my father and married my mother.
I might have whored my wife for profit.
I might have murdered my daughter in her infancy.
I might even have drunk hemlock.
I might have skipped these years of love
and traded my happiness for the sanity
that philosophers are renowned for enjoying.
~ Poetry ~
Sy Roth is a retired school administrator from Mount Sinai, New York and has finally found the sounds of silence and the time to think whole thoughts. This has led him to find words and the ability to shape them. He has published in Visceral Uterus, Amulet, BlogNostics, Every Day Poets, Barefoot Review, Haggard and Halloo, Misfits Miscellany, Mad Swirl, Larks Fiction Magazine, Danse Macabre, Bitchin’ Kitch, Bong is Bard, Humber Pie, Poetry Super Highway, Penwood Review, Masque Publications, Foliate Oak, Miller’s Pond Poetry, Pyrokinection, The Artistic Muse, Word Riot, Samizdat Literary Journal and The Eloquent Atheist.
A Smoke Signal
Our Grand Canyon kitchen table between us--
smugness rested grandly on my side;
disfigured transformation opposite.
Echololic pish-posh tumbled from his droopy lips.
Aping him obscured dis-ease,
finding non-reciprocal response;
left eye, wishless Trevi Fountain silenced me,
while rippling tsunami lips shaped sounds.
“A cigar. I want cigar!” exploded ashore
lost in the sogginess of his lips.
“Smoke, no good!”
My tawpie response.
The Barcolounger, carpet-knife sliced,
tatters of a dismantled leaf blower,
silent car adorned with cherubic mouths--
Conceit obscured his smoke signals.
Cocked finger pressed against his head,
ignited supposition of his extinguishing light.
Only a cigar,
a smoke signal laved in a bucket of ice water,
a fading firefly,
a Christmas present unopened
remains frozen in memory.
Amanda C. England
Danny P. Barbare
David W. Rushing
J. Clayton L. Jones
John Van Doren
Joseph M. Watts
Richard J. O’Brien
Steven F. Klepetar
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