Category: SUBMITTED WORKS
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Coffee by Celeste Jackson
In the mornings, I used to measure the amount of cream in my coffee by how closely I could match the color to my skin. One tablespoon would be too dark. Four tablespoons would be too pale. Four tablespoons was almost too sweet. The perfect color was somewhere between two and a half tablespoons, right […]
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being wendy’s neighbor, by katy sperry
In July, move into an apartment directly behind a gas station/Wendy’s combo. At night, eat dinner at the kitchen table, look to the right and stare at the glow of the drive thru. Some nights, the drive thru line curves around the building for hours, wonder if the fast paced patrons got gas first. Wonder […]
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Scared by Michael Chin
We honeymooned in Orlando at the Universal Studios theme park and found our way to a Jurassic Park-themed boat ride through thick trees and velociraptors—fun in an ironic, retro way. The absences and deficiencies in technology stuck out. There was a time—presumably when the ride was released in 1996—when visitors would have been scared by […]
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A Poem for What Could Fit in my Pocket by Grace Day-Strosnider
How do I live with your ghost? Dishes in the sink, voices in the walls. This house is not big enough for three. In my defense, his hands. In my defense, his lips. In my defense, his perjury. In my defense, I wish to die so I may come back to you.
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Emily, Beside Herself by Jennifer Fliss
Emily was beside herself. Literally, beside herself. She wasn’t sure what happened or how it was even possible. One minute she was on the 2 train sitting between a woman reading The Alchemist (cliché) and a business suit with a cell phone clipped to his belt. (Also cliché. Also tacky and gauche). The next minute […]
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Watching TV by John Talbird
When I was growing up, we had a twenty-five-inch screen television in every room. I watched the Doors perform “Light My Fire” on Ed Sullivan in my bedroom when I was just a little kid. Dad was home from work, sucking down a bumper of beer in his easy chair in the family room, Walter […]
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3 Poems by Ashley Kunsa
Standing in the Garden of Myself Where My Lover Misplaced a Rusting Trowel sweet nectar of firebush plumbing the fraudulent ____________________________________this argument from broken deities __________________does it matter? ________________________as light unspools across the thorax of _________________________________________inevitability___________________wading _____course you don’t know me _________________________________________________in this winter-colored dress, my wine-streaked cheeks, their hasty bloom _____________________a zebra longwing […]
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RW, #67: Three Years Later, by Orion Redgrave
“there is no shape he wants to occupy more than his own, the shape he once held…”
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3 Poems by John Findura
YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN BURIED AND I DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE DEAD I don’t remember if we had been playing cards but once we sat at your parents’ kitchen table and sometime during that night you told me about your sister in the Florida hospital none of us knew you had a sister We […]
Thin Air Magazine 