Issue 4

from The Orange Window
by Valerie Coulton

Hidden Agenda
by Diana Der-Hovanessian

Still Life, Sealed Letter
by Carrie Katz

from Apartment
by Julia Bloch

The Bear's Cage
by Lori Romero

from Apartment
by Julia Bloch

I say we will have no more marriage
We both think of the Volkswagen commercial
OK so would I be the boy or the girl
I’m betting on both your hands on my ribcage
this is chronicled
They say a dream can misfire in the brain’s eye
create déjà vu from a brand-new story
you do ignite the wrong section of my brain
impress familiar
I’m sore from scaling the face of your concern
the light here honey-colored and disloyal
your larger heart calls you from Palo Alto
I’m sick of the phone
I need a back to this chair and stronger coffee
disperse myself from your already seen memory
I think it’s perfectly clear we’re in the wrong band
I just learned how to pronounce your name
the ‘a’ long but spelled short
you always write in all caps
as if your hand is shouting
I like how my name sounds
as it falls out of your mouth
remember when I said I think you already have
I heard your answer but I didn’t stop
the light on the train ice-colored
we both want you to be here
I’ve lost whole cities from my map
an hour badly spent because it’s only an hour
what if we just happen
especially after all the traffic
 Because I know this song & how it will end
my myopic heart decides to write down ev-
ery thing you say from how you like my green shirt
to the indecision you wave before me
in white strips. apart-

ment means I’ve got my eye on your rent control—
sorry to be so crass in my urge to tie
it all together. last night your fingers marked
fugue states as the song
played do you know what it’s like to be hunted?
sorry I asked you to meet me for breakfast
at 26th & South Van Ness but the day
was beginning. and
I wanted to watch you drink coffee. and
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me


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