Author: Heavy Feather
-
Poetry & Art Sequence: “Big Enough to Step Inside” by Xan Schwartz
Gemini Rising/Poem for Nellie It was your birthday and Iknew you and I didn’t know you. Your skin was glowinglike a cloud You were surviving to the tune of light beer to the tune of raspberries and a couple of cows to the tune of Joan of Arc’s head tilt You were singing loudly…
-
Poetry: Four Yelp Reviews by J. Bradley
Yelp Review: Boy Scout Troop 43 You will hold a flag, march through sweltering nervous systems: upper arms waggle in salute. There are patches for activities, a business card thin license to wield a knife: this is a tool for picking teeth clean, a magnifying glass to play God; the fire never answers. Yelp Review:…
-
Three Poems by Robert Balun
Self (American Continuum) I wake up: and my leg hurts my achilles specifically and I wonder if the body is finally eating itself I drink old water and can never catch up it just keeps pouring I switch and ask if this is the coffee promised to us by the management during the labor dispute…
-
Three Poems by Chelsea Bayouth
Heritage I am running with this package through the click-clackity of cobblestones + looking behind me as the wind blows my hair across my face + my eyes are wild + glisten + the sun is setting + I am scared and running. The city is a grind of buildings, such loud buildings that I…
-
Poetry: Abigail Welhouse’s “Unavailable”
Abigail Welhouse is the author of Bad Baby (dancing girl press), Too Many Humans of New York (Bottlecap Press), and Memento Mori (a poem/comic collaboration with Evan Johnston). Her writing has previously been published in the Heavy Feather Review (Issue 2.2), The Toast, The Billfold, Ghost Ocean Magazine, Yes, Poetry, and elsewhere. Subscribe to her Secret Poems at tinyletter.com/welhouse. Author photo cr. Gregory Crosby
-
Essay: “A View from Across the Pond” by Claudia White
Donald Trump’s first year in office as seen by an American living in Ireland. 01/04/2017 Donald Trump will be the President of the United States in less than three weeks. This horrifies and scares me but mostly makes me sad. I make jokes about him dying in bed but then my daughter says, “Pence…
-
Poetry: “November 8, 2016” by Leah Tieger
My host hands me the cast of a dinosaur’s bone. It was takenfrom the knee of an adolescent apatosauruswhich is like he says, a brontosaurus. The cast is brown, rough striations like and unlike wood, like and unlike stone. Numbers on the TV screen change red and blue. Their silent siren lights. How did you…
-
Fiction: “A Stranger Never Comes to Town” by Jessica Alexander
My first brother was a cockatoo on the shoulder of a much older woman, who called herself Madame La Cava, spoke bad French, and feigned clairvoyance. I said, “Know how to hurt what you love?” He held her hoop earring in his beak. She said, “Vous voulez me devorer avec baisers, mon canard.” I said,…
-
Six Poems by Jill M. Talbot
Infinite Jest I’m sleeping under the bedin solidarity with the monsters,I’m sleeping in a shedin support of the fraudsters. Dan Magnan,Tonight I’m going homeless,got a new pair of socks,got every hipster on her kneesfrom Kamloops to Fort Knox. Bob Dylan,The SkyTrain stops at Hornby,Rupert and King Edward,I’ll sleep with all you wannabeswith whiskey on the…
Heavy Feather Review 