VIGIL by Ruben Briseno Reveles |
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PACKING TATTOOS
by Timothy Pilgrim Nudes sprawl in the second drawer way back behind sheets, roses, in boxes on closet shelf, dragons, swirled red, purple, green, in black tub under bed, lid on tight. Mother lies in the high cupboard, alone. Moon, stars are tucked below, locked with skulls, hearts, lethal snakes. No resting place exists for your name, seven letters being an awkward size — no easy fit for ordinary containers — taking up too much or too little space. I plan to wear it home with me after etching my grave. |
FEET by Sophia Ewing |
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DEEPLY RED
by Ann Privateer you arrive, revisit lost opportunities, try to balance moments that thrill with hours of struggle. You take to the street, grind a fidgety sigh into acceptance. You take an early train, sit beside a 20 something guy whose tee shirt reads TV Killed Radio while his iPod reverberates in your head. You take to the roof, breath cold air where sun sets early and swallow as though you own the empty sky while below, cars and sirens sound and circle. |
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