Blog Archives

The Lit Lyric

By | Elizabeth Kirschner, Prose

Someone once said that writing a poem meant riding upon the pulse. It is a cataclysmic happening with all the synapses firing at once. In order to achieve the lyric poem, one must build a sky bridge, be connected to deep red earth and moody, bluesy stars. Create a cosmos and step into it. Get …

With This Feast, We Could…Go…All…the…Way

By | Prose

Knee-deep in football season and cool weather, and I’m ready to tackle cooking some hearty and homemade junk food. But with so many options, where’s a girl start? Chili? Nachos? Chips and dip? Potato skins? Quesadillas? And that doesn’t even begin to touch on tailgate-food like ribs and burgers and sausages and… All right. This …

Ernie Types a Poem


The Gift


I am the bee who clings with dew- tipped legs to the soft crowns of purple clover, the stupid happiness inside the blasted bud, an entanglement of clouds smitten with love-stricken light that is here, there, everywhere. Sun’s gold load, the dance inside the perfectly still great blue heron and the prostration of rain- battered …


By | Poetics, Prose, Susan Kelly-DeWitt

I keep returning to that moment, that first Tuesday afternoon, the door with its frosted pane. It swings open suddenly, pulled back into the dusky hallway, and Denise sails in, salt and pepper curls wind-tossed. It reminds me of the course my life is about to take, a change from the routine academia I had …



I was struck first by the ways this poet built his poems from the detritus of contemporary life: Cheetos, Hollywood trash, Vaseline.  As I read closer, though, I discovered it was not the things, but the people he meant to hold up to the light.  In nearly every poem you’ll find images of the body …

The Teacher’s Guide To Fuzzphraseology

By | John Samuel Tieman, Prose

At some point during the academic year, educators and administrators at all levels will be called upon for their quarterly cognitive meta- paradigm projection. Such folks will need all manner of fuzzphrase. “The Teacher’s Guide” transitionalizes this problematic function by facilitating the following referentials. Choose any three numbers between 0 and 9, say 3-8-5. From …

Issue 4 | Winter 2009

After Jumping Some Kids and Taking Their Money, 1988

By | Prose

We buy Cheetos and Fanta with the money we stole. Took it as they cried, pried it loose with kicks to stomach and stomps to the face. Fingers grow orange from the powder of our breakfast and stomachs pop out between ribs and belt buckles as the soda slides down. And Whooser laughs, cheese staining his teeth, his breath coming heavy through busted lips. I laugh also, lips stinging from salt, from blood, from smiles as we eat. This is what we are given, the children of the ghetto, this is what we inherit, a breakfast of chips, skin pocked with dirt and scabs, backs resting loosely against graffitied alleys as we laugh at fights, at money stolen, at the blood that drips loosely down my left arm and puddles.