Breath & Shadow
Winter 2012
Volume 9, Issue 1
"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...