Tagged weekly content

Teressa Ezell
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In Praise of Mud by Teressa Rose Ezell

And what of this wind-whipped, soggy, savory day with its cloak of grey and its stinging drops, brown grass and bare branches, stark naked but still in glorious, dancing majesty? There is no train of hopeful, athletic feet running through the park now; just my husband, myself, and our wolfish dog, trudging. My husband’s loafers,…

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Selfie of March as Infatuation by Lori Lamothe

Selfie of March as Infatuation Change, as always, arrives late to the party. The pines in the yard stand ringed around stasis, the tips of their branches dripping dirty rain onto snow’s faded carpet. Even the sky stands off in a corner ignoring the small talk of crows, its gray coat draped over its shoulders….

Jake Tringali
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Hands of Chance by Jake Tringali

Hands of Chance form shadow puppets, shallow spirits hidden souls born skip across the evening piano, speeding allegro fleeting little song pour firewater liquors, for the tipplers morning’s remorse scar canvas with dark crayon, art seance exquisite corpse flick the card deck, bar bet conjure lost kings light his cigarette, fingers pirouette now his heart…

Jenni Baker - Author
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It’s Cold And… by Jenni B Baker

It’s Cold And The heat’s not working. The heater’s on, but I’m still freezing. The streets are paved with gross and I’m starting to wonder if these shoes really have what it takes to go the distance.  The buildings are so high. The roads have so many potholes. The land  has technical and creative challenges….

Taira Anderson
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Three-Dog Night by Taira L. Anderson

Ariane steps off the bus, into the snowfall, and it’s simple: She isn’t ready for the inside hours, the claustral house, the mom’s practiced quiet and the dad’s mean breath. She takes the long way home. Snow, thick as lamb’s fleece, shimmies round her. She holds her arms out to feel the way—she believes she…

Stephen Evans
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The Smiles by Stephen Evans

When I heard that my grandfather had barricaded himself in his room, I wasn’t surprised. He and my mother had been battling one another since our first day in the house outside of Cheshire, Massachusetts, and no surrender was in sight from either side. But if my mother’s phone call was not surprising, her worried…

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