by JL Jacobs | Aug 14, 2019 | Short Fiction
Freshly Baked Bread “Happy birthday, Mom!” Carol’s sing-song voice came through Mom’s kitchen speaker phone. “Oh, Carol, I’m glad it’s you, honey. I was going to call you tonight because I wanted to tell you that Dad and I have a present for you.” “But, Mom, It’s...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 12, 2019 | Short Fiction
CURFEW When there’s a window in the street, don’t stand near the shooting. Our greatest performance is being still. Not to have fun but to imagine having fun. Yoke on the horizon. Cats hiding food with their teeth, like artists, unable to do things as others do. If...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 7, 2019 | Short Fiction
Art: Cyril Larvor COCA COLA For fifty cents she buys a cold can at the deli near her house. She cracks its mouth and walks to the pier. Looking at the water where many boats are gathered she lets the cold can precipitate. Men adjust their sails and empty their fishing...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 5, 2019 | Short Fiction
Art: Static by William Zuback RADIO I hope it’s not true that when you grow up your heart dies. I read Faulkner’s letters to Malcolm Cowley where he admits he’s still trying to put it all, if possible, on one pinhead. I go to get my blood drained to test for hormone...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 2, 2019 | Poetry
Art: Paper by Çağrı Yılmaz Crepe Paper Golden Coach Tether System —for my H You twist —dancer— that spine of dream into one of those crepe paper chains i used to make. As if not understanding that some other substance would make better chains than...
