2011 — The Monarch Review — Page 6
My North America – Peter McNestry
Thursday, September 8, 2011 13:08 — 3 Comments
I’ve Seen Farmhouses Toppled
Oils – T F Rhoden
Tuesday, September 6, 2011 9:47 — 1 Comment
No morning romp, no private onanism; no shared breakfast, no quick snack; no pot of coffee, no shot of espresso: the two hours or so before dawn had to be used for work, had to be used solely for painting. Sevek awoke because of despair. But he awoke quietly, disturbing neither Pranaya nor the child sleeping bodkin between her parents. His wife and daughter knew nothing of his desperation. They only had a vague sense of his plight, understood that he wanted to paint, but did not know the ultimate reason why. Pranaya’s head lay unpillowed.  She was as supine […]
Letter To My Friend, The Embalmer – Andrew Gretes
Monday, September 5, 2011 13:56 — 0 Comments
Joe, when I die, don’t waste a second:
Country Doctor – Kevin Heaton
Thursday, September 1, 2011 13:36 — 1 Comment
The quest for Quivira parts fabled
In The Morning – Gwen Mullins
Tuesday, August 30, 2011 14:39 — 0 Comments
“Sometimes a woman just needs a good spanking,†Abby said, her back turned to James as she continued chopping onions, her eyes streaming. The stillness stretched as the words died in the air. Abby pushed vegetables into rows with her knife so that they formed a flag in colors of a country somewhere far from her: coins of carrots, clumps of corn cut fresh from the cob, okra sticky with white ooze, the onions.
Jury Duty – Janee Baugher
Tuesday, August 23, 2011 19:32 — 6 Comments
It’s Wednesday and I’m reporting for jury duty. As I approach Seattle’s downtown courthouse, I regard the statue of Lady Justice.
The Grave – Elliot Andreopoulos
Tuesday, August 23, 2011 15:33 — 0 Comments
For Tim, the first day of school marked the beginning of nine months of perpetual misery due to relentless bullying. He was a typical outcast; overweight, shy and friendless. At the commencement of each school year he prayed the jerks would mature and leave him alone, but their routine of demoralization never changed, and sixth grade was going to be no different. He sat in class as his teacher went over the conduct rules. When the teacher’s attention was diverted to the blackboard, he took the opportunity to stand up and remove the wedgie that greeted him when he walked […]
I’ve Seen You Before & You’ll Remember Without Touching – Darla Rae Barry Benson, Robb Benson
Monday, August 22, 2011 13:13 — 0 Comments
I am
What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
