Washed Away

by Jeffrey Yamaguchi The small bottle of shampoo looks like glass, but turns out to be plastic. Its lighter weight and flimsy body throws off my fingers’ calibration — I lose my grip, and it falls to the floor in a whirlpool of soap suds and hot water disappearing down the drain. I don’t bother to bend over and pick Read More

Goodbye to This and That

by Constance Woodring I am old. Thank God. I will be dying soon. Thank God.I made shrimp cocktail this evening. The shrimp were frozen, cooked and in a bag marked:“no chemicals added.”As I write this poem, I still have a taste in my mouth. As if I made swimming pool water shrimp dip.I do not have children. I do not Read More