There is none of the electricity of winter in the marshland spring rains. Instead, they roll in on the humidity, oppressive and swollen. The peepers are the first to announce the new arrivals. Their prayers that their quickly filling vernal pool houses might stay long enough for the eggs they will soon lay echo against the walls of fresh growth around them. The deer head, severed, buried, and forgotten last season, comes uncovered in the first swell of the storm, picked clean and waiting now…Continue Reading “Prevernal Chesapeake by Carol “Jane” Hagen”

His crème brûlée is starting to grow mold, Cream and yolk separating Like he and I on the sidewalk that night, Slowly but steadfast, No chance of reconnecting. Our jambalaya has hardened, The peppers and onions have soured And turned to mush. Condensation drips from the lid like our Conversations after he decides I am not what he wants, quick and to the point, no real flavor left. This refrigerator is full of boxes, bags, and Tupperware; Hands I still want to hold and Voices…Continue Reading “Leftovers by Alexandra Englehart”

I want you to feel me in your veins like fire: darkening, hardening, burning. I want to melt over you, under you, inside you like butter. Lay me down, spread me out until I seep inside, a taste you can’t get rid of. I want to break you in two, feed on the soft parts, feel you crunch in the middle. I want to throw you away, the pieces that don’t matter. the tasteless edges: lifeless, broken pieces, So there’s nothing left for anyone else….Continue Reading “Toast by Alexandra Englehart”

before I met him I flicked a lighter down and down again on its mocking red button and turned my hands into first degree burns trying to light my citronellas. the wicks sat deep at the bottom of unbearably tiny blue buckets, each its own individual pinterest project from hell, specially designed to cause me pain. I carried the candles in front of my chest every day, miming funeral processions and Catholic devotionals. I saw him, a man as lonesome and disregarded as a tree,…Continue Reading “untitled by Vincent Mangano”