“How do I get to Elm?”

by Joseph Hargraves

A thin, black-haired, blue-eyed
girl stopped me on
High and Main Streets.
She asked me “How
Do I get to Elm?” Because I say
whatever pops into my mind
I told her I once stabbed
a guy on Elm because he
called me a “faggot.”
I explained how easily
the knife entered
up under his rib-cage.
She asked: “How
do I get to Elm?
I told her I would
exchange good directions
for her phone number.
She wrote “Becky: 327-9553.”
When I got home
I dialed knowing
she gave me the number
to Luigi’s Pizza Parlor.
The phone rang and
a sweet voice said:
“Hi Joe, this is Becky
I was hoping you’d call.”

Always remember:
People are unpredictable.

Deadwood

by Summer Qabazard

I’m scared of this dark
in blood cells
in space
in skulls
felt it flutter
nightly

I’ve seen the base of it
its taproot
wire bone
stone gray

trunk grows
around grave

I grow a foot
imprint
hold it to the ground
I’ve known it struggle
pathetic wing-pinned
flailing, flapping

smoke snakes in breaths
turning tones of ash
of such force, a storm

even in darkness
want shadows
shadows

I have to
scream
now.

Gum Chewing Not Allowed

by Annmarie Lockhart

I don't like gum chewingyou said
Yeah, well I don't like
being overlookedI replied

We pondered these
limitations, wondered
what they meant

I will make you feel safeyou said
Yes, and I will make
you feel strongI replied

And so negotiations began
and preliminary terms
were struck

I added
a monitoring clause
that wouldn't pass review

and the unseasonable storm
wound down, sunshine through snow
flakes, light, heat, bed, bear

and I wondered why any woman
would ever consent to a man
who didn't love her hair

The Cart Pusher at Wal-Mart

For my brother
by Zach Fishel

Struggling with
frozen gates and people who drive
while texting,
he pushes on.
Making due in the sleet,
hail,
downpours of misery in the small
town that only
equals dead end opportunities
except he
doesn’t get the benefits of
the Postal Service.
He gives a damn,
making sure people aren’t
trashing the lot
with their fast food wrappers
and commodities,
he doesn’t know hot water
tanks or gas bills
that exceed warmth.
He gives a damn,
like a priest celibately struggling
through a whorehouse.
One day when
he leaves that town,
he will take his work ethic
with him,
and nobody can take that
away as the carts
pile up
in parking spots like corners
of never
cleaned houses.

The Dissatisfied Mirror

by Glenn Cooper

A mirror grew dissatisfied with its human.
Another mirror said, a man cannot help his own reflection.
That may be so, the dissatisfied mirror said, but nor can I help the desire for something more.
If you break your human you will endure seven years bad luck.
Who said anything about breaking him?
It’s in your tone.
I think the silent treatment should more than suffice …

The Reason That Drunks Dont Recycle

by Jenny Catlin

Humiliation, morning seven am embarrassment.
The clanking of cans
chirping clank, too many bottles compete for space.
Hang dog slide down the fire escape. gotta wait. for the right moment
No neighbors in the hall
smiling maintenance guy. judgment eyes
party in a one room apartment, 105 no ones invited!
Clink clang click…nothing good ever comes in or goes out in a black bag.
Porn and booze and bodies.
Space out the symphony with folded pizza boxes.
Sunday morning functioning, the church bells of shame
But Wednesday, that’s another thing entirely.
Rock paper scissors, who gets the job? Three days a week of pile up and stock up
Gotta go.
Gotta go down all five flights no matter how careful the tip toe
The side step
Still the shame-siren wails in the parking lot
Neighbor’s pit bull head cock. No chicken bones, or other forbidden goodies.
No food for days, just bang-smash the bottles and cans…I can identify the brand
the sound of opening, parlor trick in a parlor-less walk up…but still.
the old woman who swims the dumpster for these lost fortunes
one more guilty verdict for her jackpot.
Think about global warming, the trash island.
Guilty gap mouthed purple plastic is giving me the eye again,
While I feed it’s too full neighbor up with all that broken music.