The Blog

On Dark Days, I Imagine My Parents' Wedding Video

James Allen Hall

I like how my mother, Anita Bryant, waves to the cameras

without looking at the men behind them, keeping her chastity

intact, unassailable as her perfect coiffure, dark as coffee,

the white saucer of her powdered face.  I like the news

conference, its swirling choreography of men and microphones

(always on the periphery, a vulgar joke about to declare itself

in the throng of serious journalists, one of whom is a pretender,

At Squire Point

Julia Anna Morrison

I remember I have a child, vaguely
He wears a raincoat, tiny pine trees on his sailor shoes

I will have to give him away, very slowly
when winter comes. First one night a week, and then two.

Stars on one ceiling: fishes on another

papa is asleep, I say.
I will always want to touch you I said when he left me.

It won’t happen all at once, he said.

First the closets of his winter coats. I braced myself.
It’s a million little things: his skin, the tongues of his shoes

I should have never given birth. I feel a color
he left in my stomach when I am alone, a shovel mark

At quiet hour I hear his papa and I talking before he was born
Our childless voices, our love over the water

But these woods are made of dry paper;
I was right; I could not give birth without losing


Vanessa Moody

this is the physician’s assistant you saw here at Dr. ----’s office
the neurologist            I received just now the results
of the MRI        of your brain
I wanted to go over       the results        uh      of
what we            found there
so if you could give me a call back        some time today
hopefully we can um talk about some of these uh findings
all right            hope you’re doing well
take care buh-bye

your neurologist
um I wanted to review the results of your brain
MRI with you         if uh you could give me a call back    um again

so I’m obviously concerned      about what might be going on
and happy to help you            sorry


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