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Reflection by Keana Labra

[tabby title="Poem"] I constantly have to write my name on my things, as though it being in my possession is not enough. I run my fingers over the silhouette of you, but my eyes emerge and it’s a new day....

The Eulogy by Joseph S. Pete

[tabby title="Poem"] My aunt had her moment on stage at my uncle’s funeral. Though distraught over his loss, she clearly relished the limelight, interjecting herself into his story, regaling her fellow mourners with rip-roaring, back-slapping tales of how she and...

Work Boots by Joseph S. Pete

[tabby title="Poem"] The steelworkers’ boots were thick slabs of scuffed leather and heavy soles with rough-hewn treads, boots man, work boots, stitched and crafted, built for a hostile environment, forged for steel mills that burned like the devil’s own furnace,...

The City as Autumn Leaves by Joe Bisicchia

[tabby title="Poem"] Life chases through our veins so much the same, to find us so soon golden expressed in different ways as if a visual melody, even if silent as if in each other we meet ourselves, an opus despite...

Well, by Scott Malone

[tabby title="Poem"] the Good always die young, but assholes live forever so I should be fine, but I miss Biscuit, and Geiv and Lula and Buddy Scout Jackie and and and. and I will miss you too. [tabbyending]