My Small Army of Souls by Deborah J. Brannon

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on My Small Army of Souls by Deborah J. Brannon
Sep 012008
 
My Small Army of Souls by Deborah J. Brannon

About my wrist coils an army of souls, spirited and calcite, a shivering constraint of rage and patience, the tenacity of angels, the compassion of demons, low-bent humility, sharp shining hate and, most terrible of all: Love. I keep them safe against my skin, smooth carven skulls pressing into my wrist and their memories, ghost-frail,

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 Posted by at 5:20 am

Wellspring by John Thomas Clark

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Wellspring by John Thomas Clark
Sep 012008
 
Wellspring by John Thomas Clark

At the well, you reveal yourself to men in your hideous phase, ask for a kiss and all save one refuse. You, withered crone, ask him to lie with you. He says yes, and at dawn, you, a ravishing beauty, say you are Eire, in her every guise — beautiful, at times, ugly. You apprise

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 Posted by at 5:18 am

Those Nights by Sarah E. Colona

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Those Nights by Sarah E. Colona
Sep 012008
 
Those Nights by Sarah E. Colona

To say it was a dream would be a lie. Always after the light was out, he came To me, slipped out of the pelt and shivered With each step toward my warm bed. Not a word Between us — only flesh — its enchantments. Sarah Elizabeth Colona is a recent graduate of George Mason

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 Posted by at 5:15 am

Songs were washing up by Francesca Forrest

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Songs were washing up by Francesca Forrest
Sep 012008
 
Songs were washing up by Francesca Forrest

Songs were washing up on the shore Smooth as sea glass, in greens and blues We picked them up and held them to our ears Like shells And heard their wave-abraded tunes Just faintly, faintly We couldn’t catch the words Francesca Forrest lives in a liminal place between a swamp and a town, where she

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 Posted by at 5:14 am

Nimue Sings to the Tree by Miranda Gaw

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Nimue Sings to the Tree by Miranda Gaw
Sep 012008
 
Nimue Sings to the Tree by Miranda Gaw

My husband is a labyrinth whose heart tells time. Like a signpost one hand points this way & the other that. My husband keeps the time in his two hands. One end is a faucet shut off. The faucet reduced to a trickle. The unicorn reduced to a single spire. Sense reduced to habit. Our

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 Posted by at 5:12 am

Lying-In by Sonya Taaffe

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Lying-In by Sonya Taaffe
Sep 012008
 
Lying-In by Sonya Taaffe

The sleep-sipping ghosts flower above my bed: rotten dreams, stranded ore of nightmare; they smell of soured windfalls and standing water ice-crazed. Out of the wallpaper where it crackles from the plaster, the floorboards where the dust chills, they seep their own camphor level. Their dry ice dissolves on my tongue. Over the treeline, the

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 Posted by at 5:10 am

A Hairy Case by Aurelio Rico Lopez III

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on A Hairy Case by Aurelio Rico Lopez III
Sep 012008
 
A Hairy Case by Aurelio Rico Lopez III

The judge rapped her mallet twice. “Order! Order!” Silence descended upon the courtroom. The judge rubbed her knuckles and sighed. Her arthritis was worse today. She’d been taking the steroids and pain meds that the doctor prescribed, but they hadn’t helped one bit. She often wondered if her doctor was really a qualified physician. Doc.

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 Posted by at 5:08 am

Fairy Godmothers are Everywhere by Donna Quattrone

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Fairy Godmothers are Everywhere by Donna Quattrone
Sep 012008
 
Fairy Godmothers are Everywhere by Donna Quattrone

The first time I saw her was on the #22 bus heading downtown. She had her head in a book and I could tell that she was really reading, not just hiding from the world, or trying to escape from it. That’s probably what originally drew my attention. She had on big glasses that were

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 Posted by at 5:07 am

The Fall of Fairy Castle by Erin Hoffman

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on The Fall of Fairy Castle by Erin Hoffman
Sep 012008
 
The Fall of Fairy Castle by Erin Hoffman

There was a castle on a hill in my childhood;        my father and I agreed that it was        clearly inhabited by fairies. Long into my wild years I remember it against the sky— spider spires eclipsing a palladium moon rising grand and gibbous        still bright with

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 Posted by at 5:05 am

Rereading A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Thomas Zimmerman

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Rereading A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Thomas Zimmerman
Sep 012008
 
Rereading A Midsummer Night's Dream by Thomas Zimmerman

Of course, the lovers are in lust, not love. The forest, fairies, father-figures add a dash of archetypal lore, above, beyond the tug of blood and shadowed, sad, obscenely whiskered id. With donkey-dick, a rube can screw the Fairy Queen and weave a dream that words cannot unknot. And sick of rape and sack, a

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 Posted by at 5:03 am

Muse Daughter by Virginia M. Mohlere

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Muse Daughter by Virginia M. Mohlere
Sep 012008
 
Muse Daughter by Virginia M. Mohlere

My muse’s child started kindergarten this year: new dress and lunchbox, blonde like her half-sibs, blonde like my roots; blue-eyed, long-fingered and should’ve been mine. Muse daughter, I dream you alive every Mother’s Day and trace the scar you gave me, birth/death-day present, trace the dead patch where I cannot feel your father’s kisses. (“You

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 Posted by at 5:01 am

Count by Genevieve Valentine

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Count by Genevieve Valentine
Sep 012008
 
Count by Genevieve Valentine

Well, it’s for certain I still have all my little pigeons. A pair of them are in the cage, and the rest huddle under my blanket when I sleep. Gerda will miss them, and serves her right for going away. She should have used a knife on hert Kai, but girls like that never listen.

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 Posted by at 5:00 am

Four and Twenty by Daniel A. Rabuzzi

 Issue 6 (Sept 2008)  Comments Off on Four and Twenty by Daniel A. Rabuzzi
Sep 012008
 
Four and Twenty by Daniel A. Rabuzzi

Hunters catch birds in the hills above the city, Prize birds from flight and flitting, Net warblers, woodcock, finches, Birds no bigger than bees, Once an eagle even. Pluttering, see-sawing, The birds jounce wry, A tangled calligraphy in mid-air. Eyes outshine dusk-stars, Tongues dash in and out, Scarlet at dawn. The hunters’ children move from

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 Posted by at 4:58 am