this red jacket
and it’s attitude
always superior
whatever
generation
wore it,
mother, grandmother
myself now my own
sits and eyes it
warily, judges
“It will not fit,”
“But it will,” I think
“if not you, someone.”
More from Issue #1
Carnival by Dave Gregg
a sad story the other day a woman ate a large slice of King Cake choked on the baby baked inside not even real or ever born she was a grandmother, 94,…
Follicles by Dave Gregg
My face I own it is mine all twisted in wrinkle and vein but my hair has no honor I thought it agreed “Less combing” in exchange for “Robust growth” more “blow-dry”…
Romancing a Blank Sheet by Darlyn C. Lojero
who knows you more but the fingers that traverse the arch of your back and trace the minute soldiers on your weakening limbs? they have been searching and discovering all that is…
Distances by Carol Hamilton
The moon is moving away from us, hitching itself ever higher by its own tuggings at our gravity. It is paling out, like your face, but so gradually, I think you are…