The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Ike’s ThrushWords by Jon Bennett QuailBellMagazine.com I hope it’s just Ike’s thrush, I been staying off everything else, pills, yay, H. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Lisa SmileWords by Alexa Findlay Image by Christine Stoddard QuailBellMagazine.com *Author's Note: After Mona Lisa by Leonardo Da Vinci there she sits upon a wooden chair the serene view just beyond her dark brown eyes staring back at the viewer The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A Memory of Kentucky SummerOn camper awnings hung colored, plastic lanterns at night, and in the charcoal layered air under a canopy of leaves, I would sit and stare at the fire, watch spit cinders rise and disappear. This alone would be the kingdom only I could own. Grandpa would always ask if we were having fun. Grandma was quiet, nun-like in her Bermuda shorts, pastels and glasses. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Perfect Scar
“We move through the world the same way,” she’d say Jars of lentils and bars of soap houseplants, book marks and cocaine The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
More ThanWords by Alexa Findlay Image by Christine Stoddard @cstoddard QuailBellMagazine.com *Author's Note: After Girl with a Pearl Earring by Johannes Vermeer. there she sits dressed in golden brown staring upon the artist’s face eyes a cloudy grey The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Always Running OutBy Jon Bennett QuailBellMagazine.com The lunatic Italian was serially raped as a child immigrated to San Francisco and got schizophrenia as easily The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
When I Die I Will Became MusicDo not bury me when I die, Turn me into a record, To save your own life, from ending unlived. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Cadence of ThoughtOpen hands in darkness, cold-gnawed. Eyes drawn down to a coal’s red heart, toward heat so drawn in glow and spark The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
DeliriumWords by Laszlo Aranyi Image by Denny Marshall QuailBellMagazine.com *Editor's Note: Translated by Johanna Semsei The answer seemed obvious, and easy. (Oidipusz thought the same way, the discernible is often only an illusion.) It can be seen, but it can not see, while the invisible has always managed to hide away like a sphynx, it watches. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
MistyI stroke the fur in between your charcoal paw pads and kiss you in between the eyes, Where over years you’ve grown white, sloped brows, A dappled beauty. |