

Paper Nests, by Laurel Miram—Pale yellow pads are best. They contrast well with black Sharpies. No one can miss a bumblebee.

If it Wasn’t for You, 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.

Don’t Let Them See You, by Anonymous—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.

The Day Your Heart Breaks, by Stephen Parrish—The day my heart broke was the day I decided to become a writer. From the age of ten I’d wanted to be an astronaut. Granted, the choice wasn’t very original, but originality didn’t concern me at ten, the stars and planets did. It was at ten I received my first eyeglasses. Until then I had only been able to see the brightest stars, maybe twenty or so. The first time I went outside at night wearing glasses the view overwhelmed me.

Crashing

Lunchtime at the Café Buade, Quebec City

Elegy for a Living Mother

Jenner Stones

Abeyance

Why I Froze My Ass Off in a “Frozen” Costume on a Street Corner Just before the Election

The Figure

On the Diamond Behind Garfield Elementary, Melvin White Proves There Is But One Boog Powell

Bliss
