Patricia Starek – Simple Request
Patricia Starek Simple Request The request was simple Can my child come say hello to your child? With appropriate social distance of course It has been 8 weeks since this 7-year-old has seen a friend in the flesh…
Author Mom Egg Review
Eileen Cleary – Poetry
Eileen Cleary Orphan Sky For John Keats Don’t say the father died; say night falls like a father off a horse. Don’t say the boy misses him. Or that the executor betrays. Say father’s a pink carnation the…
Karen George – Poetry
Karen George Frida Kahlo’s My Nurse and I, 1937 I. Infant with an adult head, held loosely, near falling from a wet nurse’s arms—face covered by a dark mask, a grimace. Lush foliage reaches her shoulders. Sky of…
Jen Karetnick – Poetry
Jen Karetnick Advised to Keep a Journal During Lockdown, I Pretend I Am in Pompeii and hold a glass to the wall of the world hissing with a language invented each day anew What sibilance seeps into my…
Tina Kelley – Poetry
Tina Kelley Wolf Tree Alone in a field, it grew in every direction, asterisk of wood. If it were fireworks: chrysanthemum, crosette, palm, peony. If emotion: surprise, joy, optimism. If vocabulary: fractal, excrescent. A philosophy: If growth stops in one direction, try…
Ellen Kombiyil – Poetry
Ellen Kombiyil In The Old Apartment Before Language Fully Bloomed, The Landlord Tried To Evict Us The skeleton key lost, mismatched furniture hauled to the truck, Ma hollerin I’m ready to be done with this place, re-tracing her pacing…
K.T. Landon – Poetry
K.T. Landon Who Are We in Heaven if we are perfect, our past a meadow burning in our wake? Who are you, mother, if not disappointed by me? Who am I without my self-righteous superiority? After the fire…
Marjorie Maddox – Poetry
Marjorie Maddox Inside One house and this rhythm of ritual: 6:00 am, 8:00 am, 4:00 pm—our laptops open in the kitchen, the living room, a bedroom, Hellos at the refrigerator, while ascending/ descending the stairs, the constant tap of…
Twila Newey – Poetry
Twila Newey self-isolation Penelope’s Time to move slowly, up and down, as threads of grass in a strong wind without destination—bend, straighten,…
Sarah Sarai – Poetry
Sarah Sarai The Crooked Road Without Improvement “…among the most disturbing things to me were the long paved streets.” Nietzsche / Jugendschriften She is young: a fact which proves nothing. A twelve-year old in an abode on the…