Chairs Rest Like old married couple almost holding hands two lawn chairs rest at lake’s edge. Arms spread in anticipation of sunset each evening before frogs launch into serenade, and waves lap against shore; sound of kissing. Diane Webster‘s goal is to remain open to poetry ideas in everyday life, nature or an overheard phrase […]Read more "Chairs Rest"
Jennifer Lothrigelis a poet and artist residing in the San Francisco Bay area. She has just published her first chapbook through Liquid Light Press, titled ‘Pneuma’. Her work has also been published in Arcturus, Deracine, Rag Queen Periodical, Poetry Quarterly, NILVX and elsewhere. The First Year of Marriage We signed a contract, and mailed it […]Read more "The First Year of Marriage"
R.J. Zeman is a poet from Dunedin, Florida. He is a 2007 graduate of the Creative Writing program at F.S.U. Date I stare at a birthday card and smoke a Pall Mall. Thirty nine: all the pretty girls grew up, got married, got divorced. I see their pictures on Facebook; smiling lips, bags under green […]Read more "Date"
Sandra Kolankiewicz‘s work has appeared in London Magazine, New World Writing, Into the Void, Crannog, BlazeVox, Gargoyle, Prairie Schooner, Fifth Wednesday, and Per Contra. Her books include Turning Inside Out (Black Lawrence Press), The Way You Will Go and Lost in Transition (Finishing Line Press), and When I Fell, a novel with 76 color illustrations. Sixty Fifth Wedding Anniversary That’s sixty five years […]Read more "Sixty Fifth Wedding Anniversary"
Below is Part 16 of 18 monthly installments for Visitant. ◄◄ Read the first installment / prologue ◄ Read the previous installment, LANA LIZA No one whispered about Eliza any longer. At least not in her presence. She had grown into a fearsomely proud woman, with good reason. The Marsh blood made so famous by the […]Read more "A Coven in Essex County | Liza"
KJ Hannah Greenberg’s whimsical writing buds in pastures where gelatinous wildebeests roam and beneath the soil where fey hedgehogs play. She’s been nominated four times for the Pushcart Prize in Literature, and once for The Best of the Net. Hannah’s poetry books are: Mothers Ought to Utter Only Niceties (Unbound CONTENT, 2016, Forthcoming), A Grand […]Read more "Late at Night"
The thick mahogany desk was covered with a thick sheet of plastic. It was as if the doctor wanted to protect the surface of this desk – probably a reproduction, definitely not an antique. The plastic had little white plastic snaps that attached to each corner, like a Tupperware container. I stared at the […]Read more "We Pick Our Battles"
“So what does it feel like?” Nick asks me this from behind his computer. He’s wincing, I suppose in solidarity, but it feels more like pity. “It’s like when you sprain your ankle, or jam your finger,” I say, sighing, knowing that there is really no good way to explain it to him. “Like […]Read more "In Between Hope"
We had a crazy week last week. On Monday, Nick went to NYC for the day for work, and was overcome by a strange dizzy feeling. Walls spinning; hard to concentrate; nauseous. He thought maybe he was dehydrated. He drank a lot of fluids. He made it back to Boston that evening — barely — and […]Read more "The Sweetest Pitbull"
“You look great,” Nick said to me, smiling his crinkly smile and touching my arm. He was a liar, but he was a sweet liar. I looked at myself in the mirror behind the bar. My eyes were rimmed with a yellowish tint. My skin was flaky and beet red from the sun because […]Read more "We Are Still Here"