I’m petting eight tiny horses, vinegar-scented, at the pop-up estate sale. Some turn noses down, some up. Some twist their blue necks
Three Prose Poems by Theresa Wyatt
The name of the bloodletting capture was The Battle of Raisin River – an immense chapter of fire, a fierce British counterattack that left no truce – only flaming houses, hundreds massacred, captured or maimed.
The Window by Alec Prevett
I am revising the catalog when the bird meets the glass of my living room window.
Three Prose Poems by Louella Lester
Everything stopped—cop’s car/citizen’s car/loud music playing through a cracked window/the joint flicked into a strip of muddy water along the curb.
Two Prose Poems by Lorette C. Luzajic
“I saw the angel in the marble, and carved, until I set him free.”
Two Prose Poems by Jeff Friedman
“You don’t sing much, do you, son?” my father asks, sitting in his chair in the living room.
Suits by Gary Fincke
The summer before high school our language would change when the dusk drifted into our blood.
Junior Year Abroad by Kathleen McGookey
I intended to live one significant moment after another, beginning with that tiny bottle of Dior cologne in the cramped bathroom of my Air France flight.
Two Prose Poems by Olga Dermott-Bond
A soon as I spot Dad outside my kitchen window I put the kettle on. He is holding his favourite pair of secateurs, their curved beak of black weighted, ready.
Three Prose Poems by Michael Loveday
Go to the end of your street, cross the Rickmansworth Road and take the footbridge over the Colne, where reflections glimmer through the fringe of trees.
Among The Wonders by Frances Gapper
I am a fox who is counsellor to a tree. Because unlike other foxes, I reach out. Spread the love and understanding.
Three Prose Poems by Melissa Benton Barker
Our father takes us out past the breakers, into the swells. We can’t touch the bottom, but he can.
Little Red Riding Hood by Katerina Kishchynska
Grandma gets her episodes at least once a month. She’ll grow out her jaws and if it happens on a rainy day, claws will tear out of her fingers.
Fun House by Robert Scotellaro
She’d gotten the fun house mirrors at an auction and had them put up in the spare bedroom.
Their Closet by Pamela Painter
“What are you thinking?” her husband asked her. In their twenty years of marriage he had never asked her that.
The Girl In Purple by Bobbie Ann Mason
Conversation in Hotel Lounge by Lydia Davis
Two women sit together on the sofa in the hotel lounge, bent over and deep in conversation. I am walking through, on my way to my room.