Daughters by Frances Koziar I teach you what I once taught her, guide your steps through this dance of parenthood, but each word is an echo, and I remember how she picked this up faster or that up slower; I remember how I laughed with another child that you will never meet; I remember […]
The Last Scout by Mark Kessinger I was born in the time of cowboys in films. Dozens of them a nation obsessed with seeing itself back the way it was before wars too big for any rope. They sang, they rode, they shot and even the bad guys didn’t take it too far. Why […]
The Old Green One by Holly Day I will make you a music box from a porn star fill her insides with gears and whistles, a key that comes out of her navel for turning in the hot summer sun or under the stars at night. When our daughter is older, I will […]
I Keep Dreaming About My Elementary School Gym Teacher by Alex Ewing She wore short shorts Really short I remember her legs Tanned and toned In gym class, I remember The games we used to play Dodge Ball, Parachute, Scoop Ball She keeps appearing in my dreams She is holding the dodge ball Searching […]