Categoría: little chews
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“Can You Keep a Secret?” by Bill Tope
“I don’t know what to do first, Maureen,”lamented the young woman, now carryingher fourth child in five years. “What doesLarry say about it, Lindsey?” asked Maureen,referencing the other woman’s husband. “He thinks we should just have the baby.”muttered Lindsey in a tired voice. “We were upall night discussing it. Larry…
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5 Poems by Carl Bernard Schwartz
EVERYONE ELSE IS WISER THAN YOU Just browse the Internet for a little bit andyou will behold a unique phenomenon: youare a newbie with no standing whatsoever, soposting any kind of comment can get you ina whole world of trouble because of courseyou don’t know what you’re talking aboutunless you…
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“Jose Cuervo” by Bill Tope and Doug Hawley
“I thought I knew you, Baby,” said Dan worriedly, circling round the kitchen table. Baby opened her mouth, but no sounds emerged. Then she laid her head down on the table. “What can I do to help?” asked Dan. Still, Baby said nothing. “Would a little tequila help?” asked Dan,…
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“the only thing” by John Yamrus
the only thing awriterreally has isa usable past andthe timeto put it to use.
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“WHAT TO DO WITH TIME” by Duane L Herrmann
“I’m so bored here. There’s nothing to do,” Grunge said to himself as he looked idly at the books on the shelf in front of him in his cell. He hadn’t read most of them. He reached out and pulled down a book, barely glancing at the title, “Some Answered…
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Poems With Cracks by Lynn White
Death of Empathy When empathy diedthe soldiers could dancein the streets they’d crackedwearing the underwear of the womenwhose homes they had destroyed.And dance they did with pride. When empathy was deadthe soldiers could take children’s toysfrom the rubble of their bombed homesand repurpose them as tank trophiesmascots to be flaunted…
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“Molly at Home” by Bill Tope
Molly Ringer stood forlornly in her kitchen, dutifully feeding her cat, Killer. She mechanically scooped teaspoon after gilded teaspoon of Friskies into the feline’s large stainless-steel dish. With each scoop served, Killer nibbled furiously and then looked expectantly up at Molly for more. This went on for some little time.…
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“Coitus Interruptus” by Bill Tope
It was after midnight, and the clock ticked monotonously on the wall as the eight-year-old approached her mother’s door and pulled it open a crack, allowing a spear of light to penetrate the darkness. It fell upon the dresser, and for a moment, she could see her reflection in the…
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“Another Cup of Coffee” by Bill Tope
Three a.m. Saturday morning found the CornerDiner overflowing with customers, many merelyResting or else consuming biscuits and gravy andOther comestibles in order to counteract the prodigiousAmounts of alcohol they had consumed at the taverns.This was almost exclusively an after-bar crowd. “Hey, Donna Lee, another cup of coffee, Babe,”Growled Mick, a…
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“Por Una Cabeza:” A Hybrid Cine Poem by John RC Potter
“Birds in the Setting Sun” artwork is by the author’s god-daughter, Nisa Winter. You rode me like a weary and worn horse, then put me in the stable, dripping with sweat. Before I had much to eat, and without sleep,you took me back out to the damned racecourse. You forced…
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2 Artsy Poems by John Yamrus
you can’t stareat a painting ofa naked lady for too long, withoutpeople thinkingyou’ve been staring at it fortoo long. ~~ my friend Bill James played the blues…kinda. mostly,he drank beerand smoked weed, but,everynow and thenhe played the blues. itwas the 60sand the old blues guyswere having a revival of sorts,…
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“The Gauntlet” by Bill Tope
The whoop, whoop, whoop of the police siren died to a guttural moan as Anais pulled her Kia to the curb just inside the small Ohio town of Springfield, within striking distance of Dayton. She peeped into the rearview mirror and spied a policeman alighting from the cruiser and striding…
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3 Prose Pieces by Ken Tomaro
Sometimes a thought here and there (and other nonsense to get you through the day) Sometimes I feel like I’m outside my body, watching myself pushing the shopping cart into the corral at the grocery store. Or pumping gas. Or simply walking down the street. I don’t know if I…
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3 Poems by Mary Bone
My Room in the Womb My room in the womb,Is decorated howI like it.It is warm and safe.I can move about freely.Most of all, it is full of love,given by God above. ~~ A New Day Awaits I got up at the crack of dawn,Stretching with a yawn.A rooster crowed…
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