Spillwords

Evan and the Fata Morgana written by: G. Rod Hamilton   Evan felt severed. Severed from his calm, reliable self that for so long passed for fine. That thought bottomed out on his morning drive to work – out along a thirty-mile stretch of State Route 2. The trip skirted Lake Erie’s coastline and was dotted with failed businesses and bird-filled wetlands. This usual serene land...

Not the Sentimental Type written by: Lois Perch Villemaire   My mother revealed another side of herself years after she passed away I came across a cream-colored scrapbook the early days of a 65-year marriage. Her engagement to my father lists of wedding gifts handwritten notes from names I recognize as family and friends first birthday cards as husband and wife Cutting, past...

It Had Been a Rough Week written by: Arun Vijay   I saw a bird trying to fly with one wing broken. I saw a dog in search of his owner. I saw a child trying to hold his father’s hand, but all he got was a scolding to “be a man.” I saw a couple trying to say “I love you” to each other, but all they said were things that pained them. I saw a hand, walking alone, […]

The p...

Walking the Beach, We Show Our Ignorance about Stars, Constellations written by: D. R. James   before mentioning the dead ones mixed in, the snuffed ones, how they’ve guided the race, we figure, since long before the faintest flicker of a first-hand myth; but dead, even then, and now, this side of infinitude, this side, let’s say, of Gilgamesh, how the discerning words of the...

Wishes Between the Lines written by: Fizza Younis   If I’m a story, Let it be unwritten, Retold only through oral tradition, A new chapter added with every retell. Let them relay it how they please, Tragic, romantic, sad, and sometimes Happy—a tale that’s never told as is. If it’s told at all. But if I’m a poem, Let me write it myself, Not a word amiss or a period out of plac...