The Cafe Review

by Renée Olander Whose bones ache in long – healed broken places? Whose bones remember, come damp or cold weather, The hardball hit into

by Renée Olander I. On the Bay this morning, not far from beach bathers who mostly gave it wide berth, a dead turtle washed up, like a whole

by Henry Rappaport 1 Rosie says the bush is December thinks three weeks freeze got it is flip and sad at the half masts. Meanwhile, the sun

by Henry Rappaport 1. The man with no legs looks at a map of the night, looks and wonders where he can go. He closes his eyes and looks at a map

by Larry Dyhrberg There comes a moment In the life of Cherries, After the bright red, After the darkening And swelling into succulence, The mouth

by Lynn Levin Loving the hard – to – love, I sought your human feet. At the Chinese grocery you lay in a bin pond – mucked like

by Erica Goss What desires us most enters through the mouth: consider breath, with its vital repetitions; and if the esophagus is the top of a

by Erica Goss On the last day of winter, my car, filled with chaff and spare parts, fits neatly in its painted slot, a motion box, stopped. The

by J. B. Sisson In life’s peculiar game of hit or miss, whatever happens, you’re supposed to say, “It doesn’t get any better than this.” Who

by David Moreau scored from first on a single to win the Cardinals the seventh game of the 1946 World Series the Boston shortstop got the blame —

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