Voices From Beyond
Eloise Holland
Arthur walked to the parking lot feeling exhausted and sick. When he cranked the engine on his Hyundai, Madonna was singing Like a Virgin on the all 80s request hour. It was the first time he’d heard the song in the ten months, three weeks, and two days since Ali died. When they were eight, he’d hated that song more than anything. Ali played the Immaculate Collection for hours in a loop
For the Unknown
Amanda Laughtland
She took care of stray animals.
She took care of her mother.
She loved nothing more
than renting movies, kicking back.
She left elaborate graffiti
against the patriarchy. She learned
to fly. She was a trucker.
She toured the US and Canada
twice over with her partner.
She’s survived by many pets.
She’s survived by friends.
Hope Lies on the Boulevard
Penny Smith
I escape
in yellow sun
liquor and ultra
light cigarettes, addictions
resurfaced like restless
nights, screaming
dreams, and a dog
who will not eat.
Outside bright street
lights, tires tread,
large engines rustle,
sidewalk chatter
consumes thoughts of
mildew filtering
from unkept screen
doors, settling on my clothes.
Sometimes I think
life would be easier
in the circus, flying
high on the trapeze,
suspended from two
cables, determining destiny.
Yet all that is left
is watching an old man
with a hammer hack
into a tv set, placed
on the curb
waiting for
In the Apartment Courtyard
Eloise Holland
A neighbor’s lettuce thrives in the dark.
Tomatoes plump in great, black pots
Almost edible now
“It’s good to be self sufficient,”
the grower told me one sunny afternoon
as our lives overlapped in the yard
The sharp light recoiled from every surface
smooth enough to slap it
back to my spongy, hungry skin
With the sun in my eyes I nodded then,
but still doubt he could survive long
on salad alone
Weddings are Like Scabies
Eloise Holland
Contagious and itchy
lace around the wrist
a knot at the throat.
The first signs appear
in body folds, particularly
between the fingers.
My friends are caught
in an epidemic of ivory,
and cold, sharp rocks.
I mean no harm when I compare
wedding to parasite,
marriage to its hatchling.
After all, each human
begins as egg
and then parasite.
