by Chris Atkin
I decided a long time ago I wanted one tattoo. / A single image that screams of self, / meant to say all the things I cannot find the words for.
by B. Fulton Jennes
My neighbor, a widower, vows / that his house will be / so death-cleaned on his demise / that his daughter’s only worry / will be to return the library book / laid to rest on his nightstand.
by Claire Matturro
Checking out in a long line / my mind on what the hell / I’m fixing for supper / I notice the guy in front of / me has a gun strapped to his hip
by Jim Gish
We did not have to turn off the radio. My father told the mechanics, Ron and Pete, that it had a burned out tube. They just nodded. They knew better.
by Matthew Farrell
My sister is dating a man I can’t stand. They’ve been together for eleven months. I keep a handwritten list of his faults that is ever expanding.
by Paul Byall
Early was there to fix a well. He didn’t know much about the universe or the planets, but he knew about all there was to know about machinery.
I will soon be pitching a debut novel, and I want to know how much of an issue my age will be to agents and publishers.
by Treena Thibodeau
A week before the party, I text my newfound brother and sister about social distancing. The wording has to be right; I don’t want to sound uptight.
by Bill Ratner
I’d be a baby without skin, a parrot / without a little soap-shaped food cake, / a truck driver out of a job.
by Roy Bentley
I was raised with religion, if you count my granny Potter / reading to me from The King James Bible