In This Issue
Spring 2015

Trunk, digital collage

Trunk, digital collage
by Joseba Elorza

More in The Gallery »

Essays

Apple By Amy Glynn

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Essay Award.
In the beginning was the word and the word was… no. Wait. Before a word there is indrawn breath, inspiration, the original pregnant pause. Godhead, aleph, ein sof, unsounded sound….

Posted in Essays | Tagged , | Leave a comment

My Own Personal Mr. Crabtree By Garry Takle

There are usually a few days during every English summer when the jet stream brings settled high pressure and the prospect of wind and rain recedes for a time to the continent. This day was one of those. It was the middle of the summer holidays and doldrums were approaching,…

Posted in Essays | Leave a comment

Detours By Sue Repko

That night I’m meeting some women writer friends in the city, and I need to find Panchito’s Mexican Restaurant. I know it’s at 105 MacDougal Street, but I don’t know what subway to take. I scan what Google gives me, and my eye is drawn to a New York Times headline: LIVES AFTER 7-STORY FALL. Apparently, some guy tried to commit suicide at 105 MacDougal back when it was a tenement….

Posted in Essays | 5 Responses

David the Green Dragon Goes to the Opera By Tamie Parker Song

Second Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Essay Award.
I was meeting three times a week, sometimes more, with a man. In between our meetings I waited to see him again. I drove through the traffic of Berkeley, meandered through Berkeley’s utopian grocery stores, every activity I did, really, just a disguise for waiting….

Posted in Essays | Tagged , | 5 Responses

Fiction

Cloud Seeding in the Andes By Amalia Gladhart

I wasn’t supposed to go down by the cemetery, but I wasn’t with a boy. I was with Ana Inés and her cousins — we were looking for unguarded guavas — and then I was alone. So I was the only one who saw the plane, weaving and wobbling with a sound like a hive of bees about to explode or a lawnmower pushed way beyond its limits…

Posted in Fiction | 1 Response

The Russian Girl By Nancy Ludmerer

We flew the flag at half-mast after Marina Lubov died. We gathered in the rec hall for what we thought would be a memorial service but that turned out to be something else. All 49 of us sat cross-legged on the floor in our blue shorts and white Camp Wigwam T-shirts, our silence broken only by occasional weeping….

Posted in Fiction | 8 Responses

Picnic at Angola By John Haggerty

Winner, 2014 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
All through the hot summer of 1957, whenever they had the time, Patricia wanted to picnic down near the prison at Angola. She liked to be right up close, as close as they could get without the guards shooing them away. She and Clemson would drive down one of the levees until the fences were in view…

Posted in Fiction | Tagged , , | 1 Response

Trouble Brewing By Kristin Walrod

Mom said, it’s important for me to serve, and that’s all she said about it, nothing about my dead little brother or Dad’s grief poured into the hood of broken-down cars in our front yard, or about the trouble I was in with the county and school and that other thing. She said that, then packed up and joined the Army, like she’s some eighteen year-old stumbling drunk into the recruitment office…

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | 1 Response

Poetry

A Young Person’s Guide to Philosophy: I Think Therefore I Am, A Round-Up By Barbara Ungar

Second Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
 
    Thales said the world floats like a log on endless water.
All things are full of gods.
                        Anaximander said we evolved from fish…

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | 1 Response

Chicago By Barbara Wuest

Farthest was the horizon, then the Lake, Lakeshore Drive, closer still the zoo, its camels wandering inside the fence, then the steamed-up glass of the conservatory, and closer still, the windows of the suite on the 16th floor where two lie together….

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

The World Recast by Flash Cards By Donald Levering

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
And when I came to
in that blasted wilderness
blurry and paralyzed
I had no words for who or where I was….

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | 2 Responses

Diana at the Salon By Maria Terrone

Intricate equipment suspended
from above descends
to warm her skull…

Posted in Poetry | 1 Response

Closed For Now By Maria Terrone

Before my travels, I rip away the magazine label
so no one will see my name, as if this useless
reflex could protect me…

Posted in Poetry | 2 Responses

The Two Supers By Lynne Sharon Schwartz

The Puerto Rican super next door
was an outrageous flirt, and I
in a careless way, flirted back….

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

How the Mighty Have Fallen By Lynne Sharon Schwartz

Platinum-bleached Miss Romanoff, Tsarina
of bookkeeping, with layers of caked powder
on her sour, corpse-like face, a voice like shovels
scraping dirt off coffins…

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Contraptions By Philip Fried

Seduced by the billiard-ball physics of Rube Goldberg,
God became addicted to convoluted

Contraptions for accomplishing simple tasks…

Posted in Poetry | 4 Responses

Relics By June Blumenson

Third Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
After
she was in the ground,
sent off to,
god knows where,
we returned to the house…

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | 10 Responses

Dirty Work By David Filer

I’ve heard of ways to kill them
or drive them away — traps,
gas, injections of canine
urine….

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

August Midnight, 1996 By Kimberly Jackson

In 4A, a thin young woman
Checks the lock the stove the lock
Lies down, gets up to do it all again…

Posted in Poetry | 2 Responses