Close

body

‘Superheroes in PJs’, by Grae Salisbury

This is shocking.                 I am not an object and I am not broken but                                           the pain tells me differently.   This is chronic.               Why am I not adjusted yet?   It comes and goes, it’s all my consciousness                                                         or                                           all I want is to lie down.   And when […]

Read More

‘Flare*’, by amymillios.blog

I’ve slept through Christmas. I shiver and pull the covers over me; sweat, and throw the covers off. My head bobs with nausea as I hobble to the bathroom to pee. The cats stay away, though at some point I hear them sliding across the living room floor, chasing that knitted ball with the bell.  They […]

Read More

‘The Day That Never Ends’, by Mariana Gurgis

From our window, the clouds seemed static, frozen. Orange-and-green taxicabs drove through the slush six floors down. Tilly whimpered, buzzed for the nurse, asked for Dilaudid, whispered “good morning.” Swaddled in her sheets, she breathed hard. Phenolic air. She asked me how I was feeling. We lolled in our beds, our mothers asleep in their […]

Read More

‘Early Onset’, by David Punter

Like a tennis ace, all Crisp white shorts, and shirts Fresh every day, He sits over the breakfast Table, too big For any chair, an elbow  Planted, a one-hand scoop Of eggs and bacon, Solid muscle in the arm And thigh, his neck A bronze pillar Of glowing flesh. And then you see Slight tremor, […]

Read More