Ingredients

They say salt
was once so precious
that soldiers were paid in it—a salary.

A common, bitter thing
I add salt’s tear-tang to the dough
and feel my wrist and bicep work

(the ingredients of my life
are not measurable things
though I feel them pulse just out of sight)

now I see the sight I always see
out the kitchen window
as I knead and knead and knead

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i forget i fell asleep with you and can’t think of anything sweeter

you fall asleep with coffee breath, & the rain starts, hitting the sidewalk
as the dog whistles. the dog is whistling next to you & everything is
silent still. i imagine the noise of nothing sliding through the house. at
our world’s end, olive bread. so we ripped it off the loaf. our last meal
in the big house that no longer feels like ours. scattered we are,
segmented. yeasty fingers finding mouths & tasting only closeness.

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Border Stones

Border Stones Even death is just a concept we put on the bare facts of things. Alluvium and sunlight, names for the annealing world, the dough that turns into bread. I forfeit opinions because I want the startled wings without the assumption of the bird. In the forest, I’m simply dazzled. My heart may hurt, […]

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Toast With Jam

Diane Puterbaugh lives in Jackson, TN where she practices meditation and trains for marathons. Diane has completed a chapbook titled 31 and is working on another, Contrails. She often enjoys black coffee, bird watching, and a certain brown dog. Toast With Jam Toast with jam is bread with berries. Browned bread with boiled berries is […]

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To the River Gods

Pat Anthony writes from the rural Midwest finding inspiration, in the soil’s rugged furrows and  the faces of those working it. She frequently uses the land as lens while she mines characters, including herself, to explore relationships as a means to heal and survive living with bi-polar disorder. Former poetry editor of Potpourri (out of print) she holds […]

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ex nihilo

when i couldn’t speak she drew me a circle there were no words to communicate the shape i didn’t understand but her circle did not close and it turned outward on itself and i was sad to see it stop. she called it “spiral” and i begged for her to complete it until it reached […]

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