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Featured Works: Week of Feb. 12 (Love)

By on Feb 13, 2018 in Featured | 0 comments

This week, in honor of Valentine’s Day, our contributors look at various phases of romantic love. “My Favorite Flower” by Milton P. Ehrlich evokes the urgency of young love. “A Character from Proust” by Jonathan Bracker provides a snapshot of a love begun to sour. “The Second to the Last Time” by Cinthia Ritchie depicts the last moments of a relationship. “Anniversary” by James B. Nicola reflects on the origins of a long-time love. “My Wife Peeling an Apple” by Robert Pfeiffer captures the subtle beauty of quiet moments...

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My Wife Peeling an Apple

By on Feb 13, 2018 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

She takes the apple in her palm and presses the paring knife under the flesh just below the stem. As if it required no thought, as if it were natural as falling asleep, she spins the apple slowly with one hand, and pulls the blade toward her other thumb. It’s like watching an ice dancer, or a gymnast on a balance beam — you’re sure that every next move will slice jaggedly into her, and fall to the floor in a clatter, blood dripping to pool at her toes. But she doesn’t break eye contact, not even a pause in the conversation; red skin, pulled from white flesh, hanging...

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Anniversary

By on Feb 13, 2018 in Featured, Poetry | 10 comments

  Remember how I used to scrape off irritating little bumps as if perfect attainment of a suppler, less eventful shape, a peace at the expense of love, and armchair grace, had quite become      a sort of holy grail?   The day I finally attained the perfect peace I’d sought, I heard a voice from somewhere that explained the living’s really in the lumps.           I was struck dumb      but thought the thought...

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The Second to the Last Time

By on Feb 12, 2018 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

when the moon was full and I wore my navy silk pants / and my car got stuck in your driveway and I read poems on your rug naked / the space heater warming my ass / and you said I was a cat in another life and I laughed because I knew I was really a dog / willing to be kicked and come back for more / and after the sex and the sounds we walked the mountain roads / snow and silence / it’s easy to feel alone when you’re holding someone’s hand / we walked fast because our legs were cold / and I remembered a movie scene of a woman leaning over a railing to wave goodbye to her lover / I...

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A Character from Proust

By on Feb 12, 2018 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

He finds that Habit holds too close and holds too tight. “Let go,” He thinks, “I have my breath to catch. What started as a waltz Is now this marathon. I fold within your tireless arms. You were attractive at first. We seemed to fit. Now I cannot recall Your absence. Whatever tawdry witch has cast her spell, I implore To raise her wand. I am too weak now Panic nears. Am I never to guide and be guided by Joy, that radiant other Whose classic head, unknowing of my plight, Rounds into mocking view too often to be chance?” Now he believes that from the start He should have partnered The...

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My Favorite Flower

By on Feb 12, 2018 in Featured, Poetry | 0 comments

has a brilliant aureole that scares all the bees away. Her scent is so intoxicating— I can’t walk a straight line. My mean-spirited grandmother warns: “She talks too much, and her boobs are too big” When she comes into view with her three-legged calico cat, the earth stops spinning— tides grind to a halt, stars fall from the sky and light up the dark corners of the world. The sun no longer sets, and the man in the moon confesses—he’s always been nothing more than a figment of our imagination. When she’s near— birds tweet sweet melodies, pussy cats purr a drum roll, puppy...

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