Category Archives: Issue Five | Summer 2013

Two-a-Days | Big Hark

Listen close. You’ll sweat on the day they make you a man. August 12, 1990. Your socks will be striped. Two thick bands of green will sandwich a skinny strip of yellow, and as you stand in line you’ll think about nothing but the simple white tubes on the feet of the other boys around you.

Two-a-Days | Big Hark

Listen close. You’ll sweat on the day they make you a man. August 12, 1990. Your socks will be striped. Two thick bands of green will sandwich a skinny strip of yellow, and as you stand in line you’ll think about nothing but the simple white tubes on the feet of the other boys around you.

Time’s War | Catherine Bowen Emanuel

Physicists note that you can’t chart distance without the measure of time. Plotting distance against time tells you a lot about the journey.

Time’s War | Catherine Bowen Emanuel

Physicists note that you can’t chart distance without the measure of time. Plotting distance against time tells you a lot about the journey.

Leap Second | David K Wheeler

We call these vacation nights, evenings when clouds hang low, fleeced with heather and redwood tones, as the sun slouches behind the western hills.

Leap Second | David K Wheeler

We call these vacation nights, evenings when clouds hang low, fleeced with heather and redwood tones, as the sun slouches behind the western hills.

Every Lovely Bird | Robert Vivian

Where does desire come from anyway, lovely bird? Who gave birth to it and why, and why is desire the thing I know better than anything else, better than I know myself?

Every Lovely Bird | Robert Vivian

Where does desire come from anyway, lovely bird? Who gave birth to it and why, and why is desire the thing I know better than anything else, better than I know myself?

Undressing | Danielle Villano

There are so many men on the morning train that I would like to wrap my legs around. The sight of a crisp white dress shirt and a graying widow’s peak has me holding my coffee cup a little tighter, so the pads of my fingers burn from the heat.

Undressing | Danielle Villano

There are so many men on the morning train that I would like to wrap my legs around. The sight of a crisp white dress shirt and a graying widow’s peak has me holding my coffee cup a little tighter, so the pads of my fingers burn from the heat.

Pathological | Susan Rukeyser

My throat was stuffed with knives. My head, hot cement. I was impatient for health. The Walk-In doc guessed sinusitis and prescribed a quick fix. He pressed a sample into my palm: “Free.”

Pathological | Susan Rukeyser

My throat was stuffed with knives. My head, hot cement. I was impatient for health. The Walk-In doc guessed sinusitis and prescribed a quick fix. He pressed a sample into my palm: “Free.”