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Two Poems by KB Ballentine
Longing is my mother,and we are headed to the oceanto talk about my fatherwho just died.She grew upwith him, knew himfor more than half a century. 28,204 days holding handsSalt-spray stingsour faces, but we still wantthe sea. He snorkledand she surfed – they embracedthe same things differently. holding hands 28,204 days Each crest and troughof… Continue reading
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Algal Storm by Willy Conley
Willy Conley, an award-winning, published photographer, writer and filmmaker, is the author of Space is deaf like me, Photographic Memories, Plays of Our Own, Visual-Gestural Communication, The World of White Water, Listening Through the Bone, The Deaf Heart, and Vignettes of the Deaf Character and Other Plays. Born profoundly deaf, Conley is a professor emeritus… Continue reading
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As If By Fate by Chris D’Errico
Chris D’Errico’s writings, music & visual art have appeared in various analog & digital mediums for the last three decades. He has worked as a line cook, a neon sign maker, and an exterminator, among other vocational adventures. Born in Worcester, Massachusetts, D’Errico lives in Las Vegas, Nevada. Active in the Vegas art, poetry and… Continue reading
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My Life as a Chaise Lounge
by Beth Sherman Lately, Eric and Katie have been fighting. Eric wants to sell me on Facebook Marketplace. Katie says, no way. I’ve been in her family for like, almost a century. You can’t put a price on comfortability. Actually, Eric claims you can. They’d get $4,300. He’s checked the comps. He took pictures of… Continue reading
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Photography by Michael Peterson
Michael Peterson is a retired physician, husband, dad, and grandpa. He now works on the family cattle ranch in rural central Utah. He likes reading, writing, printmaking and photography with a Holga camera. Continue reading
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Two Poems by Valentina Fulginiti
when a poet diesit’s not every day that a poet dies,last words tossed with scattered changeinside the glove compartment, frozen under crusty soles and muddy tracks and everywhere the same panic screams its FUCK DID YOU DO’s and His name wasted on a youthful killer’s lips // it’s not every day that a poet dies… Continue reading
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Saint Evelyn
by Geoffrey Orens No one actually remembers much about Evelyn, although we remember her constantly: her portrait has been outside the Catholic church on Meserole for the last 25 years, forever enshrining her as a saintly 15-year old. Ever since that tragic hit-and-run that took away her life, she watches over us with a half-smile… Continue reading
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Snipers
by Mileva Anastasiadou Horror is on the menu and we take it because we’re tired of rom-coms and light dramas and coming of age narratives, but also because horror is our only option now that we’ve grown old. They don’t serve romance to people our age. The young waiter recognizes us because we’re regulars and… Continue reading
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The poem is not the words though the poem is made of words
by Hilary Sallick This morning a silver cat appeared outside my window its second visit in two daysIt stepped from the roofof my neighbor’s shedto the trunk of the mulberry where it clungagainst gravity raptby the nearness of a squirrel downward-hanging easyin its tree The catheld on and met those eyes with its ownThen the… Continue reading
January House Literary Journal 