My bones are the origin of small raging fires Sparking violence, body against body, Like any garden trying to survive among Deadliness. My atoms are weeds pitted against flower And bloom Of myself. Pain hushed into embers, Sometimes – As wide and endless as a mouth to hell. I have died many times, Intimately, unforgivingly […]
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Artist’s statement: Looking to the Future is a portrait of a little girl who lives near the village of Saut d’Eau, in the vicinity of a waterfall which is sacred for Catholics and Vodou believers alike. Her mother cooks and sells food on the main road, leading to the waterfall. The picture was taken in […]
Edward Michael Supranowicz has had artwork and poems published in the U.S. and other countries. Both sides of his family worked in the coalmines and steel mills of Appalachia.
Hunger Stones Hunger stones as memorials hunger stones as warnings of famine of drought of emaciated animals, failing crops of too many bodies to bury Stones embedded into river banks in 1417, 1616, 1717, 1842, 1892 carved with words or pictures to alert people that when the stone is exposed, the river is perilously low […]
The woman in the photographs is your mother, but you do not recognize her. They are a grainy version of her in black and white, a version from before. From a time when she was almost a girl still, her youth the thing which shocks you the most. Because how can it be? How can […]
tied together through an ampersand separated by strings of commas and ellipses since the words never turn out right when I’m thinking or reminiscing about plain old habit days ends of cords always dangle unless fastened to the side of the bedframe pushing pedals posted on metal frames interlocking gears clanking turns aside natural bays […]
Andrew was the boy who smelled like roses. All the time, unequivocally. We had four classes together, and I always passed him in the hall to and from each period. No matter where we were, if he was near, the aroma of roses would be present. It never bothered me, but sometimes, I felt like […]
Dust motes danced in pale shafts of late-afternoon sun slanting through the open drapes of the parlor windows. Less affected by gravity than stale air currents imperceptible to Missy, the particles swirled about the big chair reserved for Unc. They appeared as tiny planets revolving around the imperious figure whom she envisioned lounging there. The […]
After winging his way above the flags and factories, he landed among the sheep and goats, only to find they’d sown their wild oats in a makeshift mountain made of mole hills. Frank William Finney taught English Literature at Thammasat University in Thailand for 25 years. He is currently growing old and ornery in […]
Treasure Buried Deep The trees of the forest behind our house smelled like black hickory smoke on the day my father took a length of rope and strung himself from the tallest oak in our yard. I observed, unseen, from the bay window in our kitchen as he dragged our old rusted ladder across the […]