He Wants
The Author sips coffee. The coffee is cold. The sun is rising, god bless. A child, one of his own, screams from downstairs. A ball bounces. Several thuds in succession. He sips coffee. It is still cold. Grounds in his mouth. He spits them out, but he can’t spit them all out. He resigns himself to a few grounds in his mouth. He stretches. He is unable to write more, but he is not ready to go downstairs.
Is It Hummable?
Prose poetry from the mind of Miryam Gordon.
an attempt not to line up all the ducks
A short poem by renown dancer and poet Christin Call.
Tradeoffs
Downstairs, he pours himself more coffee from the pot he made yesterday and heats it up in the microwave. The coffee comes out hot, thanks to microwaves. Very small waves energizing, exciting, vibrating, accelerating, colliding, rubbing molecule against molecule, creating heat. At least that’s his idea.
Dog Walk Matins
Pam Hobart Carter brings to you an elegaic reminder of how after great pain a formal feeling comes.
From An Old Lover
Her letter drifted across an empty sky,
a night shadow dragging its feet behind
a wandering cloud. Striations on the walls
of arroyos mark the arid years…
From the publisher
I aim with The Seattle Star to use my pages to help rebuild our community, to use our knowledge and our limited power to bring artists together and to bring people together with artists. So far we have done this quietly, by publishing poetry, drama, radio plays and fiction alongside our essay writing. We will continue to do so, but rest assured we will expand this mission visibly over the next year.
Except where otherwise noted, the content on this site is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.