Category Archives: Response

In response to Call No. 67, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” trailer. On the television, Audrey Hepburn and some actor mindlessly smiled out at the two young people, sitting in their apartment. As the preview for one of that night’s many specially-scheduled … Continue reading →

In response to Neil Ellman’s “Brain-bound” and three poems by Mike Berger.  Mystery The golden fields held promise in the wind, grass grew tall, berry bushes of aroma, the sun spilled warmth onto thick pavement, lemonade refreshed my thirst in … Continue reading →

In response to Neil Ellman’s “Fallingwater.” Spring Waterfall Just beyond the brushy shore, pines jut up piercing the sky. Crisp morning air distills on the scene. Eyes cannot penetrate into the dark masses of trees. Early morning sun reflects off … Continue reading →

In response to Call No. 49, “Pitt Rivers Museum.” Funny Bones William Cordeiro Before the chicken, your egg had picked the bones of clever questions our riddles still beg: spineless, did a weepy deceiver rattle you, try to pull your … Continue reading →

In response to Call No. 63, “Kincaid Recycled.” Brain-bound Neil Ellman Memories decimalized stacked and bound in an order of their own conceit frayed,  dog-eared convoluted wrinkled like the convolutions of the brain to be recycled with the morning trash. … Continue reading →

In response to Call No. 45, “squeezing blood from a stone.” Cleaning Stones Peter Taylor These stones are patient sundials waiting for each hand stroke to clear away the names. You tidy grass while I wrench weeds and plant our … Continue reading →

In response to Call No. 40, Quotation from G.K. Chesterton. The Tree Neil Ellman Riding at the edge of time on my golden steed I found a tree its branches bare its roots a history I asked the tree, “Are … Continue reading →

In response to “Untitled” by Lauren Palmor. Untitled Ben Rose Splinters shatter and spoil the heat, their veins watching as slides reveal red bleeding orange and seething with waves, trapped beneath the weight of becoming. A room waits to be … Continue reading →