Smolder – by DENNIS FRIEND

Smolder By Dennis Friend       “What was your girlfriend’s name?” Konni had been reading the newspaper when she glanced up slowly and stared at me. I could not read the look on her face. What an odd question, I thought. Konni knew her name. In the 40-plus years we’ve been married, Konni has…

One Secret Thing – by DONNA DALLAS

  One Secret Thing   Live in this they said as they placed me neatly onto the pink rose-budded bedspread in the room with white and more white so I would be well and release festering thoughts that wake me in the night sweating thick to the point of oil shaking to some madness of…

I Want a Wife – by CONNIE BEDGOOD

I Want A Wife By Connie Bedgood   Men want wives. As I mow my back yard, I, too, would like to have a wife.  Why do I want a wife?  She can help do the yard work.  In fact, while I go to the gym, she can put out the trash a couple of…

The Inexorable Lion – by CLARK ZLOTCHEW

The Inexorable Lion Clark Zlotchew   We’d  descend the steep incline At the end of Westerly Drive, Abandoning civilization, For the savage realm below.   We’d labor through trees and brush, My three sons, Eyes wide with anticipation, And I, Tribal patriarch, chief of hunters, Filled with manly vigor.   We’d ford the nameless brook…

Wild Dreams – by DON TASSONE

Wild Dreams   His alarm went off precisely at six.  So did his coffee maker and TV. CNN was playing on the flatscreen in his kitchen.  He scanned email and FaceBook as he sipped his coffee and chewed on a breakfast bar.  He had two more friend requests overnight.  He accepted them both. He grabbed…

Let’s Talk about Unhinged… – MARISELA I. MITCHLEY

I suppose that propriety demands certain things be left unsaid, and though it doesn’t come naturally, I try my best to bite my tongue. I’ve had to dislodge my foot from my own mouth more times than I can remember, but I think that as I get older, I am learning how to more deliberately…

Amelia Flew Home – by STEVE CARR

AMELIA FLEW HOME by Steve Carr Her feet; those elephantine, calloused, dry, mop-water-dirtied appendages, lifted from the ground, raising that bloated, overworked, undersexed, unappreciated body into the air where she momentarily hovered like a bewildered wounded butterfly unable to flutter its wings. Pushed by a foul smelling breeze that came in through the open kitchen…

she is lion face, i am lemon face – by ZACHARY M HODSON

she is lion face, i am lemon face beneath a slim lick of ice the koi want you to know they have not died this winter you had already budgeted several hundred dollars for next spring which you can now spend on moscato instead   ms lion face was sickened by my poem about refusing…

I Still am me – by MIRELA ATHANAS

“I still am me”   I still am me!   I am, … I still am me, I am the little baby, With the tiny fingers Which I still carry, same shape, same grip; That later learned a dance in piano keys,   I am, I still am me, I am the little girl, I…