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how she keeps

Two poems by Sherrie Fernandez-Williams

she wonders how long before her / own body knows it is the keeper / of treasures and her mortal soul has / endless chances to get things right.

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Something’s Wrong with David

Fiction by Linda A. Prince

Norah waited six months for her husband to return from Vietnam. Every morning, she wondered if David was alive, or half-alive, or if he was a corpse, or the remains of a man who couldn’t be identified because David was always losing things and had most likely lost his ID tag in the depths of a jungle which, in one of her nightmares, had swallowed David whole.

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Paloma

Excerpt from “House of Hunger” by Uzodinma Okehi

Mist. Like steam, listing, through karst cliffs dense with trees. And green. So-called, finger mountains.

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Pianoforte

Nonfiction by Angela Palm

 

You are the music while the music lasts.
–T.S. Eliot

My friend R. asked me once what drives my creative work. “Sorrow. Desire,” I said.

“Those are very different things.”

I disagreed. Everything I wanted made me sad.

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