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Myra Sklarew

Infinite Regress of War

By Myra Sklarew In the mirror of infinite regress
go back. Go back to Vietnam. To a man
who can spot a trip wire fine as a hair,
Kathi Wolfe

Blind Ambition

By Kathi Wolfe I'm in my seat,
averting my eyes,
those funhouse mirrors,
Joseph Ross

Hammering on Rocks

By Joseph Ross Hammering on rocks
can break the hammerer's back
when stooped
Lisa L. Moore

Cowgirl Filibuster

By Lisa L. Moore Word got out about the bad bill.
College students packed up their bikinis,
went back to Austin to tell those men why
Jennifer Perrine

A Theory of Violence

By Jennifer Perrine Under the surface of this winter lake,
I can still hear him say you're on thin ice
now, my heel grabbed, dragged into the opaque
Amaranth Borsuk

Character Anatomy

By Amaranth Borsuk Few things the hand wished language could
do, given up on dialect's downward spiral:
words so readily betray things they're meant
Patricia Monaghan

Loaded

By Patricia Monaghan They were always taught that all guns were loaded.
It was a way, he said, to keep them safe.
Don't you notice, he said, how people get shot
Emily K. Bright

Community

By Emily K. Bright It is nearly midnight and I'm
scrubbing at the grout.
The dishes, washed,
Beth Copeland

Cerberus

By Beth Copeland What do the howling hounds hear that we can't?
The moon sharpens its sword on the Earth's stone.
Palm trees on the shores of the Tigris stand sentinel,
Patricia Monaghan

Red-Tailed Hawk

By Patricia Monaghan Just past dawn in early fall,
a sparrow screamed at me
as I walked into the woods.
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