Author: Thin Air Magazine
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Two Poems by Genevieve Creedon
Mason Jars They’re hip these days, retro in an age of plastic, pre-packaged crap that leaks and unravels, leaving soppy messes on the well-swept floor. My niece used them as beer and wine glasses at her farm to-table wedding, lids carefully collected and stowed away— They are votive holders and vases, emanating light across dining […]
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Tenderness and Tragedy: A Simultaneous Experience
Jake Skeets is a Diné poet, holds a degree from the IAIA, and his debut collection Eyes Bottle Dark with a Mouthful Of Flowers was selected by Kathy Fagan for the National Poetry Series in 2018. We spoke to Jake over the phone about his debut collection, image, his process, and the balance of violence […]
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Two poems by Andrew Lafleche
seven or eight, dad counted pink baby possums eyes moist closed had to inspect when mother was out theirs and ours reconnaissance before I learned the word hung the hose over the lip of the garbage can turned it on “it’s the circle of life” filling the container “turn off the water,” he said “I’ll […]
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Three poems by Melinda Giordano
The Star That Slept The sun had lost its heat; And knelt at the cold well in the clouds. Like a ball of cotton It erased the color From the sky’s fingernail Leaving it neutral and insipid; A stopped clock, A stymied year, A world before form and meaning Had twitched it into life; A […]
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GETTING AT THE LAST KETCHUP IN THE BOTTLE by John Grey
Thumb can’t reach. The fork and spoon just won’t fit through the bottle’s narrow neck. I slap my hand against the Heinz sticker but nothing inside shakes loose. I could tip it upside down but, when it comes to ketchup, gravity takes its time. The easiest thing would be toss this bottle in the trash […]
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Cancer #2 by Natasha Deonarain
“There’s a certain callous humor we need to practice medicine. It keeps us doing what we need to do.” —from an anonymous Medical Resident’s online comment I knew you were there alone, sitting in the darkness of your house, sitting next to your enormous patio window shaded with the excuse that it costs too much […]
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In Memoriam by Miram Ben-Yoseph
My mother died on her birthday 40 years ago. She died in Israel. I light the memorial candle in my kitchen in Evanston and recite the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead. I drag the box with the “fragile, handle with care” sign on it from the basement and put it on the chair […]
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Prancing by Hiram Larew
Grackle me those slick-spots. Trash take the squawking and like me so black colors flecked or muddy eyes-feet Take over. Sidewalk my branches more and peck whatever’s nothing — […]
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