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In Indiana
by Amy L Cornell I have checked out at Kroger and realized I had forgotten something. I double back to grab what I need so I can head home. I leave my cart full of paid groceries at the front of the store and wend my way back to the aisles. I pause at the Continue reading
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The Epitome of Marriage
by Ashley Kirkland My husband tells memy hair isn’t curly. It’s wavy. Says I don’tclean the house. I tidy. Like I’m some woodland creature in a cartoon. What’s weird is I clean constantly, curls swinging wildly downmy back. I wonder if this isn’t the epitomeof marriage after a decade(or flash, I can’t tell): saying the Continue reading
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Why I Call Myself “Feminist”
by Grace Lee Because we stared at the mirror througha fog of tears, pinching and pointingas the male gaze held us tightly in itssuffocating grasp like the dresses theysqueezed us into. Because feminismbecame the “F” word, inviting a chorusof jeers as it left our lips, forcing usinto painful silence, our lips lockedand the key thrown Continue reading
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Meanwhile, on the Other Side of the World
by Nina Forsythe Is this what it’s like?You go to work, make dinner,order new reeds for your clarinet,replenish the bird feeder,you hear worrisome newsfrom hundreds of miles awayand stock up on rice, toilet paper, coffee.And then one day, just as the cherry treesare coming into glorious bloom,the air is explodingand tanks are coming down your Continue reading
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Four years gone and I am still your mother,
by Ann Weil tracking time, crossingoff days— Mondays I washyour clean shirts, hang them on the line one by one they unpin, fly away, I hope they are homing pigeonsTuesdays I sweepunder your bedI am stillfinding your hairWednesdaysI sit on the rooflight a signal fireburn down the houseThursdays I buy binoculars, scan the blameless horizonFridays Continue reading
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Every Time I Write a Poem I Fail
by Alicia Hoffman Promised I’d quit if my desires, like a switch, clicked easily off. Once, under the bright lights of Westminster, I walked lightly over stones and maybe I sacrificed nothing but the sacrament. Transformation was what I was after. Promised myself my poem would be vast. Definitely not superficial. Not coy. No clever Continue reading
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Happy New Year
When January House Literary Journal launched in May of last year, I had barely an idea of where we might be headed. I’ve been overwhelmed with gratitude for the response from our readers and contributors, making January House a greater success than I could have imagined. In our first, abbreviated, year we’ve published three issues, Continue reading
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Which Muslims Do You Write For?
by Elizabeth Shanaz The ones tired of performing / The ones with tattoos and piercings and cuss words’ fragrance on their tongues / The ones who are nearly hafiz / The ones who still have to look up the steps for namaz / The ones sick and tired of that masjid Attitude Aunty / The Continue reading
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The Question
by Karen Bramblett The Caribbean’s azure handsgather moisture, pour waterover the mountains where it tumblesdown in a rocky river to the steel bridgeat Boquete’s center. On the west side,the Caldera River is flankedby tall-spined grass and adobe homes with open balconies. To the east, half-brown blades flop overbefore a fenced-in, manicured lawnand asphalt path.From the Continue reading
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Property of Hell
by Z. T. Corley after Betye Saar’s The Beast that Pounds the Devil’s Dust, 1964I was made in the Devil’s image, something like a bull or a buffalo or a unicorn, wallowing in the dust of damnation. I kneelat the Devil’s feet like a wifebefore her husband, restingmy head on the burning ground,offering my throat Continue reading
January House Literary Journal 