Miguel Guerreiro Lourenço

CALLOUSES AND BROKEN LINES   The sun had burnt his hands ever so slightly, like the colour of black tea touched by milk. Unsweetened and rough, bruises and scars dotted his skin. A worker’s hands, his mother said. There were lines and curves, fleshy and raw, some ran down his fingers, others adorned the knuckles….

Shirley Jones-Luke

There’s No Luxury in Poverty   My family was poor   government cheese     free box of food for Thanksgiving   sleeping on a cot until I was in my twenties    couldn’t afford a bed    roaches & rats as roommates   emergency room visits drained limited funds   doctor or medicine or rent or food    going out was a treat…

Roberta Senechal de la Roche

Nor’easter   Do not say I wanted to lie with you just to make an end of journeys, to make a wave. I could always swim to land, alone.   I could take everything you lost and more but we have so little time to find a transept in this storm, what kinds of things…

Robert Walicki

Birdman   I’m not supposed to know it, The name for this place— No signs, as if everyone here has been here before, I shouldn’t need to ask directions   To the doors opening to the sounds of electricity, The dirty buzzer opening me to a room even dirtier,   To Glenn, whom I’ve seen…

Aden Thomas

He Runs into the Wind   This is not a Wyoming love story. There are no beautiful sunsets here, no, not in this tale; no cowboys and cowgirls dressed up like mannequins in a Wrangler store, no flash where your grandfather caught your grandmother’s eye at some dinner party out on the deck at someone’s…

Danielle Hanson

Building a Mountain   Piling rocks isn’t so hard.  You do the same thing One wheelbarrow after another. The dirt comes for free as the rocks settle. Maybe jump on them a few times to be certain. The paths are there from the wheelbarrow tracks. Simple, really.  And once it’s tall enough, By God, some…