A Creative Space + Literary Magazine
My father’s cigar-smoking, or rather its imminent threat, had caused our banishment to the porch. After supper, Dad had taken a cigar from his shirt pocket with the practiced deliberation of an actor. Mom, recognizing the cue as hers, stood and began clearing the dishes. “Marcel,” she said, “you’re not going to smoke that…
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I am well worn, thumbed through, creased at the edgesAlways stuck on the same page, always mid-sentence,I can neither avert my eyes, turn thoughts, nor paperFor it is my life’s work, knowing something of what’s gone beforeBut no clarity as to what comes nextI live in the now of uncertaintyNo future, beyond skittish dreamsMy imprint…
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Right now I’m sitting alone in my favorite bistro. A cocktail or two, some delicious comfort food, and possibilities, all lie in waiting. Nights like this call for red lipstick. Nights where, no one you already know can make up for the crappy day you’ve had. The ones where existential crises dictate the order of…
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“I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up all over my wedding dress!” I said. “Breathe,” my friend, Monica, replied. I breathed. I didn’t throw up. It was past the time of morning sickness so something else was wrong. The woman in the mirror in front of me reapplied the…
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Smiling into the morning’s faceI lie under a tree Listening to birds With my eyesI kiss the crooked treefull of rounded fruits A happy crowd held in friendly arms I can do what I wantI watch the river flow Don’t be a slave, don’t be a foolshe speaks to mewhile I cry tears of joy…
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Just to the left of the dying lavender,there is a castle of a web, fit fornothing short of a king. That’sjust what I expect the spider is, too: a king.His galt is royal, regal, intentional.He spins crystalline twine day after nightafter day, laying each ivory wing to his thronecarefully, one after another. I suspectthat he…
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Inspired by the TV series, This Is Us It startswith anervousbreakdownand endswith across countryroad trip. Do I remain drivento the point ofachieving anunreachableperfection… Or do I gorgeon my defenses? Do I holdmyself responsiblefor my lack of security? One that is:lostcharredexhausted. Could I findthat soulconnection? Addictionsmay one dayconsume me,but I willbe strong enoughto pull openthe lidsof…
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Soft, lazy afternoons in quiet neighborhoods, where childrenPlay innocent games.Mothers watch, contented, idyllic lifeScenic pictures of another day in paradise. Large, comfortable homes perched on lofty hillsidesSit majestically, overlooking a sea of lightsAs late evening sneaks past crystal lakes.Soft light glows from bedroomsWhere children are tucked in to sleep, safe and secure. Street scenes, a…
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Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.Twenty Twenty. Twenty Twenty-One.You’ve crossed the river Styxand have entered hell. Oh, how uneventful. How sad.Did you expect fireworks?With all that has happened,did you think it was over? A year older, you feel the same,only to realize it’s been over half a decadesince you’ve graduated (college that is).It’s getting harder to lose weight. Thankfully,…
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