by Lisa Reily she didn’t know that her family was only held togetherby an old plastic Christmas tree,her mother’s pierogies,and homemade lemon cheesecake. she had always planned to make her mother’s food,but only ever watched her cook;now her hands were lost without a recipe. she didn’t know her father had never understoodwhy her mother had left him, even though he’d Read More
Tag: father
Shouldn’t Mother Be A Song?
by Prosper Enotor Path these curtains to my childhood, let in some light. This poem is the clattering of a coin toss in a room the beep of a c-4 seconds away from explosion. At age four i first learn to nod, to balance day and night on my tongue.then, pain was not having enough toy to fill the Read More
Radio Advice
by Thomas M. McDade My Sox were facing Chicago – Pale Hose, as newspapers said, headed for a pennant, and called the Go-Go Sox: sinker, slider specialist Bob Shaw to start. My dad kept a radio on his bedside table, volume low for my mother’s sake when he couldn’t sleep. He hunted the dial for interesting stuff. He’d picked up Read More
Blueberry Waffles & A Side of Poignancy
by Neel Trivedi Chip Taylor opened his eyes as a shrieking sound pierced through his ears and painfully made its way to his head. He cursed himself for setting the sound so loud as he reached over and turned the alarm off his phone. As he checked his messages, he looked at the day. It’s Sunday, he thought. He paused Read More
Uncle
by Ross Jeffery The carpet’s rough. Its bristly nibs bite into my skin. Can’t breathe, my father splayed out on top of me, his full weight baring down, choking the oxygen from my lungs. Muscles burn, cramp throttles my calf, a snake coiling around a tree trunk. But still he pushes me to the carpet. Sweat covers us. We are Read More