Poetry: “Scott,” by Dan Pinkerton

The leopard paces, shudders, compulsively
licks his paws. He growls and we come to imagine
his growls an inhumane score, an avant-garde
sort of thing. The leopard devours a selection…

Poetry: “Fishing for Winter King Salmon,” by Tina M. Johnson

Night squalls spit snow into the air.
Wolf moon breaks winter’s smoky choke
as pines along the island flare
beneath hibernal whitewashed cloaks….

Prose: “The Letter,” by Colby Galliher

Eleanor snapped the Kit Kat bar in two. She placed one half on the side of her white tea setting. The other half she handed to her husband Mitchell, who sat across from her at the rectangular kitchen table. The lights in their small house were on and the kitchen was warm. Fragile curls of […]

Poetry: “In Houston, It Is Impossible Not to Consider Traffic,” by Glenn Shaheen

I do my best, I make it to the six
square feet in the middle of the city
park where you cannot see or hear cars.
Eyes dimmening, my eyes are failing, I’m
only eligible for a surgery I’m not…

Prose: “Hong Kong, a Love Story,” by Mel Christie

KOWLOON, FEBRUARY 1988

I’m a-walking down Nathan Road with a strut in my legs like I’m dancing, crowds thick as steam off the paving, cars pressed cheek to cheek and blowing fury, shop sign neons stretching,

Poetry: “La-Te-DA,” by William Heath

In Key West we go to the La-Te-Da
evenings after dinner, sip prosecco splits,
dance to live singers of varying merit,

Prose: “If Leaving Me Is Easy,” by Mike Gosalia

Me: Hey, I didn’t get the proofreading job.
Clara: Oh, I’m sorry, Bert. Keep applying, okay?
Me: Yeah, thanks. I got another interview for a college admissions essay editor. It’s in a week and a half. It’s also remote, but this one’s full-time, at least for a while…

Poetry: “April 14th One Week After Week One,” by Terry Trowbridge

Ten minutes ago lightning struck Lake Ontario.
The bolt edged the crown of a neighbour’s birch tree
then craned a hard vertical plunge over the shore cliff.

The starlings, dug into their cliffside holes,

Prose: “The Glimmering Woods,” by Richard Jacobs

One unseasonably warm Saturday in late January Val’s phone rang. He picked up the receiver and said an unsuspecting “Hello.” Carrie said, simply, “Hi.” He’d thought she had damned him by now for his silence, his necessary relinquishment. “How are you?” she asked. “Uh . . . well, I think.” He smelled roses, the scent […]

Poetry: “Strawberry Shortcake Footholds on Luggage,” by Christopher Barnes

Bustling check-in desk, suited men. Orderly queue –
duty free sake. Vexed boy humpfed away.
Eleventh hour tannoy inspirits discomfort. She lays
Japanese Red Army’s blasting cap. Oyster-white
peripheries shock to black