by Linda M. Crate i’ve seen so manyhoney bees and bumble beesi know it is you visiting you’re the bee keeperwho’s now found his beesagain, i can’t believe you’re gonesometimesbut dementia took your mother she is a cruelmistressa demanding one; i am sorry that you forgotyou remembered mewhen you forgot others it made me wonder if there’ssomething in me the Read More
Tag: forget
You Can’t Be Truly Happy On Tuesdays
by Mileva Anastasiadou I’d hate Tuesdays if it weren’t for you. Tuesdays are boring until five, when you arrive. Mom thinks I deserve better, yet mom doesn’t count, for that’s what moms always say. The clock’s ticking, she’ll say next, which doesn’t sound as threatening as she’d like, as what comes to mind is that huge clock on the wall, Read More
My Grandpa Knew Mr. Parkinson
by Bojana Stojcic “Let me help you, Grandfather,” said a voice to the old man as he stumbled walking away from the table. Grandpa nodded back, put on his hat he wore with style and, with a profound mistrust of anything new, left the room, unsure about where they had met. “Even elephants forget,” Grandpa joked. What he didn’t see Read More
A Practical Guide to Confronting Racism
by Dani Putney I can’t take my eyes off:You clasp a chilled Coors Light,shuffle Ariat boots,adjust your rodeo hat.The girl to your left tells a story,maybe about her day at work,maybe nothing at all.Your crush is obvious despitethe flames in my eyes,the bonfire between us,the smoke engulfing my brain. It’s possible she doesn’t knowwhat you’re hiding behinda hazel gaze and Read More
Higher
by Stella B. James We used to swing here all the time, remember? I’ve forgotten many things with each passing year, but the image of my feet kissing the sky as my stomach fluttered with excitement remains as fresh as if I were fourteen again. “Push me higher!” I’d call out. I can almost feel your hands on my back, Read More
Bindle
by Lannie Stabile I ran away over steel tracks. My bad copper luck flattened as the whistle sang. Loose thoughts filled my pockets & two tight fists kept them company, as I walked midnight to nowhere. There are things I couldn’t leave behind: the park cedar heart I worked so hard for that first fall, latent fingerprints on scrolls of Read More
Herds
by Anita Goveas I’ve always wanted a trunk. Hands are useful, but wonky lungs mean more time bumside-down means itches in hard-to-reach places. I saw Asian elephants at Chester zoo, Aunty Devika drove us from Stockport in her Mini Cooper. They liked to roll around in the mud, I could see that. But it turned into a two-inhaler day, so Read More
Masters
by Gale Acuff When I can’t fall asleep I think about my dog, Caesar, run over long ago – thirty-two years it’s been: I spend the night at a friend’s house. My father picks me up next day, and, halfway home, at a yield sign, where Post Oak Tritt runs into Sandy Plains, Son, your dog was hit by a Read More
Elephant Pond
by Ashley Bullen-Cutting curving slats cross sorrel watersdirty replication in a surface shared with the swaying of green truncated souls stop midwayperceptions pricked to mistral conversehoary spectral splashing veteran oaks storify in squeaksrecollecting ashen anatomiesquesting elephantidae snouts little ones gawp and clapinfant hands pokingbetween vertical boardsreaching for the past Note from the author: The Elephant Pond is a lovely habitat Read More
In Pilates Class
by Ray Ball, PhD Sometimeswe do a movecalled The Elephant.Legs splayed evoking the memoryof the animal’s shape,its proboscis reaching.The muscle memoryof the hips that storeso much emotionthat never forgetstretched tau(gh)tologically.I read somewherethat elephants mourntheir dead. If onlymourning could beclear and simple,brash like the trumpetingof a pachyderm.If only what I buriedstayed under the earth,but the elephant digs it up, the fragile Read More