..:: CONTENTS ::..

   Volume X, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..

..:: PROSE ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
   Volume V, Issue II
   Volume VI, Issue I
   Volume VI, Issue II
   Volume VII, Issue I
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
   Volume VIII, Issue II
   Volume IX, Issue I
   Volume IX, Issue II


Sheila Murphy


River amounts to moist happenstance
as papal as a bulletin recited a cappella.

One of us has been Copernicus; the other,
alert to shelf life on the precipice of an excuse.

Get that parrot out of my garden.
Banish straight-edged melody, please.

Both of these work: also, lemonade,
Fortran, chemistry of the body in a soap dish.

I neglected the capture of a robin's perch
alongside rumination after far-flung waves.



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