"Aphasia", "Public Execution", and "These Days"

Written By

Jimmy Burns

IV drip drips a quick fix.

Impoundment disgust

of abandoned food particles

reservoir between stroke

and bleeding gums...

"Cherrypoppers, Inc."

Written By

Erika Jahneke

I’m calm until I hear the warm Midwestern voice on the line, the accent somewhere between my dad’s and Joan Cusack’s.

“Cherrypoppers, how may we help you today?” “Joan’s” voice says, and suddenly I feel like a middle-school kid about to hold hands for the first time.

Who’d that been with?

"Do People With Disabilities Sometimes Wear Orange? - An Interview with Mike Reynolds"

Written By

Chris Kuell

"Event of the Century"

Written By

Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter

The winter wind whips my long hair about me as I tap my long white cane against the brick wall of Fuddrucker’s, searching for the door. My friends do the same with their canes. Grease filters through the chill air; it is the unmistakable odor of a burger joint. We’re cold and hungry. Finding the door, we scurry inside. We’re seven friends out on a Saturday having a good time—we all happen to be blind.

"God's Gift to Me"

Written By

Anthony D. Lafond

My wheelchair is a part of me.

When he moves, it is like a tank under my control.

My wheelchair has a chair like a portable bed.

His wheels are round like a balloon.

And his motor moves me as fast as a 10-speed bike...

"Making My Own Acquaintance"

Written By

Raud Kennedy

I used to smoke, crave it, enjoy it.

Now it’s something people do

who are ambivalent about life,

not sure if they want to live or die...

"Too Wonderfully Strange"

Written By

Judith Krum

And for this aged priest to be asked to help. That was just extraordinary. He thought of the Christmas Child, vulnerable and tiny, dependent, trusting. And trust was what it was all about. Trust in his own ability to give care, to maintain a calm exterior, to not weep. Trust in his willingness to be vulnerable himself. He wasn't wearing his clericals - no collar or stole or chasuble to mask his fear. Just his skin and his casual jeans.

"Tyger Tyger"

Written By

Ashley Dean

It is night and she unzips her skin at the seam over her spine, spilling out muscle and bone and blood. It is night and she unfolds from the body she wears during the day and goes walking.

The asphalt of the road is cool against the pads of her feet, the summer air sticky around her throat like a necklace made of seaweed and car exhaust.

"Upon Waking in Five Center"

Written By

Elisa Karbin

Oh sweet girl, what I wouldn’t give

to spread out my madness

like a map before you, to take

"Your River"

Written By

Achilleas Michailides

The waves uplift me

Into the Light I soar

Rotating and dissolving

See the tendrils of oblivion claiming me...