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Media: The LatestFictionNon-FictionPoetry

Working Days Off by

Rich Smith

You are easy unlike each little trauma of my workaday waking.

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The Version In Which Little Red Riding Hood’s Hooves Are Singed by

Rich Ives

We seemed to be turning to clever
pleasure, which felt nearly as good as

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This Romance by

Rich Ives

I acknowledge a superior tone
and chase flies across the room

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And God Help You by

My chores were piling up and I was behind on my school reports so I kneeled next to my bed as I’d seen kids do on TV and I prayed.

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In the Closet by

A long time ago, I came out of the closet. It was uncomfortable. My grandmother’s apartment spun in summer breezes so hot, crossing her living room was like trudging through moss.

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Snowfall by

Arn and Gina recognized the waitress with the large hoop earrings although they didn’t engage in personal greetings as they plumped down on the leather sofa in front of the fireplace at the Old Fisherman Inn.

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Just as I move to sound the word
I start again,

Tenor and Vehicle

Morning compares
the dream to this undress:

Edna’s Cats

Beatrice stuck an Old Gold in her mouth, lit up, and blew out an angry plume of smoke.

The Center

When the door opened, those who had already arrived would look up at the newcomer suspiciously.

The Flora and Fauna of Marine Park, Brooklyn

A rhinoplasty of row houses
noses over a street scene

Tossed Up

The stench is unmistakable,
a shape on the black strand