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Story: Haigh, Crossley, Stancek

Of Clouds by Liz Haigh

Being Frank Elliot by Beth Crossley

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Lake Tranquillity by Andrew Stancek

Vert by Katie O'Flynn

Brushing shoulders with the unburst shell of a stranger
Where once the cracks ceased to be cracks
Where pages dangled from loved-through seams
But no more of that - the page is turned on that eve
And you never read a word, and the words do not exist
And I am a face and you are a face
Transient template of our race
I have never known you, I know, I must never know you again
Merriment and joie de vivre and mangled foreign-ese
We have barred the door and we'll scream aloud
We'll watch with spite as the world is drowned
Or no, with spite, we shall not watch at all
How shall we return its tortures?

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  • Poetry: Lark Beltram


    Sunrise on the Wing

    Fishing by Lark Beltram

    The past is dead fish
    stinking, and rainbow trout
    still roseate in review.
    The present daily fry
    in oil of routine, while nourishing,
    leaves hunger for that elusive catch
    a-swim in deep blue future's crinkled span.

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    Story: Tepper, Kiernan, McMillan

    I by Susan Tepper

    I dress with you in mind. I keep up my hair color. I shave my legs and use tooth whitener. I take power walks. I eat green things from gardens. I sit and laugh at your same old jokes. I smooth my skin with body grains. I make dinners for your friends. I wear contact lenses in dry eyes. I screw you when I'm too tired.


    Of Clouds by Liz Haigh

    I wander lonely as a cloud. But how can clouds define loneliness? If you look up at the sky, clouds are rarely alone. They usually float in small groups. Sometimes they fill up the sky entirely. How can clouds be lonely when there are so many of them? I should wander lonelyas a sun. When you look up in the sky, you only ever see one sun.

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    Fire Porkers are an Excellent Way of Winning Debates by Peter Kiernan

    There is no freedom to decide whether one is involved in humanity or not, one simply is. That is to say that our being amongst one another is an indisputable feature of our existence, unavoidable in every way. We share the same bewilderment, the same problems, the same world of significances and not by co-incidence, or perhaps rather by a kind of necessary coincidence of the same phenomena in the one space. We are at a basic level the same kind of phenomenon, the same kind of consciousness suddenly awake, anew amidst a world that does not explain itself nor relinquish readily its secrets -

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    Wills by Brian McMillan

    It was dinnertime, and it was dark. A loon was starting its low song over the lake. He’ d eaten some berries for lunch and did a mental inventory of the cans of soup back at the log cabin. It was a 20- minute hike through the scrub oaks, but he preferred working out here because he felt like he was going to work, even though he just as easily could have moved his woodworking to the living room at the cabin -- no one else had set foot in the cabin in decades. He was finishing an intricate birdhouse, which was worth hundreds of dollars, but which he would sell at a flea market for just enough to sustain himself. Once he traded one for a new set of drill bits.

    Abartis, Needham and Owens (Prose and Poetry)

    Caroline Phones her Mother by Cezarija Abartis

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    Fledging Flight by Eira Needham

    Wait by James Owens

    All night the ambulances screamed in
    with the dead or dying.
    It was easy to see the hospital as a station
    for the departures.
    We were always half awake.

    It rained often. Afternoons
    at a window, I imagined the edges of things--
    glass dividing warm air from cold,
    the millions of raindrops,
    their separate splashes in the yard.

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    Poetry: Augustine, Whitehouse, Needham

    Dancing in Water by Anne Whitehouse

    After Dinner with Ted at the High Noon Café
    by Nonnie Augustinet

    Mam's Best Brooch by Eira Needham

    M. Lynam Fitzpatrick

    Ramon Collins
    Nonnie Augustine
    Yvette Managan

    Digby Beaumont

    Bill West
    Peter Kiernan

    Peter Gilkes

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