Author: Heavy Feather

Two Poems by M.A. Schaffner

So Morbid, So What? -1- Okay it’s not death but the long preludeof appointments, tests, and troubling results,followed by additional procedures.It’s called a crab because it moves sidewaysand picks almost delicately with its clawswhere instruments can see, if not respond,until the final stage of tearing outwhat weakness it finds, which is everywhere. Here’s more knowledge…
Fiction: Amanda Goldblatt’s “The Way We Feel Sometimes”

First I’m confrontational with shift workers. The pharmacist asks for my signature, if I have any questions, if the dosage is correct. “Obviously,” I hammer. She is small with rosacea. I am not tall; I feel tall in her presence. I watch her wilt. Give her what she wants. Regarding any transaction, I’m taciturn. When…
Two Poems by torrin a. greathouse

& so i am writing another poem about gravestones which is to say, i am writing about destinations & not that we don’t all end up there, eventually, but i have watched far too many of us arrive to heaven, anxious & far too early as if it were a party, & we invited only…
Poetry: “Ass” by Diane DeCillis

Tremulous gibbous moons,sand dunes of the body’s terrain,I’m talking double bubble entendre—not smart ass, the know-it-all,the wiseacre—more cheek to cheek,a tango as it were, the stuff of rumba,samba, mambo—parallelyet unparalleled in synonymy. Call it: buttocks, butt, booty, behind, backside,bum, buns, bedonkadonk, arse, can, cheeks,hind-end, haunches, heinie, keister, glutes,rump, gluteus maximus (or minimus) tail feather,rear, junk-in-the-trunk,…
Everything We Don’t Know, essays by Aaron Gilbreath, reviewed by Vivian Wagner

Aaron Gilbreath’s Everything We Don’t Know is a collection of essays about growing up, coming to consciousness, and taking responsibility for one’s actions and inaction. These intimate and honest essays tell stories about mistakes Gilbreath makes and harms he inflicts, and ultimately they’re also about his slow and winding journey toward compassion and care. Not…
Poetry: “Ni Hao to You Too” by Dorothy Chan

A white man says “Ni hao” to meas I wait for my Las Vegas flight.I can’t look at him though he’s now sitting next to me with his ni hao nervesince he thinks he’s so progressivespeaking Mandarin in his hunting outfit but doesn’t he know that anyonewho’s seen a Rosetta Stone commercialor been to EPCOT…
Essay: “Binge-Watching White Feminism” by Samantha Duncan

November 9 Rory Gilmore cries tears of shock into her coffee, because so much hate exists in the world that didn’t exist before. She knows, she’s searched all of Stars Hollow, including Jess’s coat pockets. First snow is soon. A different scarf and matching hat for each day of the week. Coffee and doughnuts to…
Fiction: Daniel J. Cecil’s “The Stages of Orbit”

-1- Jonathan was drawn back by a force when the airlock opened. It was the vision of the kitchen floor, which was another opening, and another loss of air—something he wasn’t quite expecting the weight of. That day was like this one. The lack of oxygen was what he felt. When his friend returned home…
Fiction: Justin Lawrence Daugherty’s “Whatever Don’t Drown Will Always Rise”

People hear Nebraska and they think Omaha, the big city, or they think nothing at all. They don’t think about Indians crossing over from the rez in South Dakota for a drink, falling asleep in the highways, opening flesh like exposed empty pockets, begging for wounds. My neighbor told me about seventeen dead horses found…