T-45 Contagion by Ron L. Dowell

A new reality, my poet’s communitydeparts Kaprielian Hall, displaced home, sweet homelogs-on Lenovo/Apple/HP/Dell laptops, Zoom.My comfort regarding familiar screen faces voices, support, a vaccine, & fortress we’ve builtagainst the Trumprona-45 virus.COVID-19 pneumonia kills like shit stinksa spawning virus, fluid-filled lungs inflame bleed, drown—when Liberty can’t breatheU.S.N.S. Comfort sails N.Y.C. subways.Trumprona-45 contagion smothers reasonmines fear’s depth, we backstroke toxic swamps of lies Donald J. Trump’s hiss … Continue reading T-45 Contagion by Ron L. Dowell

As The #MeToo Backlash Continues, Let Us Remember the Short Stories of Emma Cline’s Daddy

In his 2017 book, Kids These Days, Malcolm Harris predicts, among other things, the eventual raging return of on-blast misogyny (what he refers to as the “misogynist backlash”). Mainly as a result of looking for a scapegoat to blame for the way things are when, in fact, things are that way as a direct result of the patriarchal, male-spewed “values” we all still adhere to … Continue reading As The #MeToo Backlash Continues, Let Us Remember the Short Stories of Emma Cline’s Daddy

Grolier’s Bookstore by Frank Freeman

I saw Seamus Heaney onceat Grolier’s Bookstorein Harvard Square, which carriedonly poetry. He waslifting and looking at booksjust like I was. I knew whohe was, but had not readhis poetry. It crossedmy mind to ask him ifI could buy a beer for him. He saw me see him, smiledsaid nothing, just went on looking. I think he left not long after andI forget if I … Continue reading Grolier’s Bookstore by Frank Freeman

Frozen Charlotte by David Estringel

Skin, blue,like mistletoe berriesunder her midnight sun,she sways and humsto the tune of firefliesin flightand whispers upon the windthrough bare branches.Night’s chill rests, warm,upon bare shouldersin want of cover, butthe animaand bloodare numb to Winter’s sting.So, she dances,the wreath of Spring,long fallen away,beyond crystalline graspsof icy fingertips(or loving hands).Fallingsilent and still—a night heron frozen, mid-flight—she turns, slowly,to meand the offending glowof yellow lamplighton bedroom walls … Continue reading Frozen Charlotte by David Estringel

Diary of a Dissatisfied Character by Linda Ferguson

1.  Let’s call her Lucy. Our creator, or “writer,” as she calls herself. She calls me Paul, although clearly, I’m Paolo. Paul meets Sasha at the café, Lucy writes, but there’s no dialogue yet, so we speak freely. Sasha (whose real name, unbeknownst to Lucy, is Chance) orders a chocolate croissant and a cappuccino. I, in an effort to stay fit, get a green juice.  … Continue reading Diary of a Dissatisfied Character by Linda Ferguson

Marilyn Monroe at 97 by Linda Ferguson

What a night. Diamonds, I tell you, were not a girl’s best friend, now or then. Fourteen bottles of white pills on my nightstand. And another one: blue, like the ribbon in my brown hair. The one I wore when they dragged me to the orphanage. That last night in 1962. I was unsheathed. Literally. My sleeveless apple green dress on the floor. Hair unwashed, … Continue reading Marilyn Monroe at 97 by Linda Ferguson