I cup your four flavors in my mouth: bitter, sweet, salty, sour. The tastes are male and female: the miracles of a girl’s first blood, her first lover’s sweat. The various […]
Every Craving Finds Its Match
Litany for Lilley
by Gianna Russo (after Billy Collins) You are the French pedicure and the bell-like laugh, you are the Bridge of Lions and the Bijou sale. You are the right answer on […]
I Thought I Was a Fertility Goddess
by Becca Hensley That Goddess of Willendorf, stone figure unearthed by sturdy farmer’s hands, speaks to me. And now I burst with children, I am jam packed, crammed, congested with little hands […]
Two Mothers Stranded in the World
by Terry Godbey She circles, distraught and loud, and like any expectant mother displays an unfortunate waddle. Behind her, a man emerges from the lake, shoes and shins dripping, holding her glistening […]
This Week, the Sirens Honor Mothers. Let’s Start with “Bells”
Bells by Julia Clare Tillinghast I dreamed my son was joining the army We were driving him there in a flood My mother-in-law and her daughters Were in the car with us crying […]
The Transfer
by Elise Hempel His car rolls up to the curb, you switch your mood, which doll to bring and rush out again on the sliding steps of your shoes half-on, forgetting […]
Anything Helps, God Bless
by Gianna Russo Next time, you’ll notice them in their Sunday clothes, the orange-yellow vests that once a week declare to the church-goers waiting at the red light on Hillsborough Avenue they […]
“Charlotte Managed” — Praise for Terry Godbey’s “Hold Still.”
by Martin Achatz, an editor at Passages North, “Wilbur admired the way Charlotte managed… “Charlotte the spider is a survivor. She doesn’t depend on Lurvy to bring her food. She doesn’t scrounge through […]
Fast Gas
by Dorianne Laux -For Richard Before the days of self service, When you never had to pump your own gas, I was the one who did it for you, the girl who […]
What Will I Tell His Daughter
by Meg Day When they removed the yellow tape from the doorway, our neckless birds still sat, unfolding, on the tabletop, his stack of paper—foils & florals & one tartan velum—fanning out […]
The Gloria Sirens 