If we put them in boxes, they will hold up better.No, they won’t be able to breathe.They aren’t breathing anyway.We need a stasis box. That way they won’t deteriorate any further.What do you think they do with these long extensions stuck to their shoulders?Do you think they could fly withContinue Reading

“Look what you have done, Daddy. Those people in the little houses can stay in their homes. My friend, Bill, lives there. He is the neatest guy. Can we go see him sometime?” “We have to go to the hospital for your treatment today, Johnny. Maybe.” “Maybe what? They saidContinue Reading

He came to us in that odd way A feline knows– A porch seat empty, An opened can of tuna on the step His mind, a cat’s mind, simply seeking warmth and food. This feral creature did not know the generosity of a back rub, the safety of a lap.Continue Reading

Across the western plain silence travels one unsteady foot at a time staggering, twisting, forward until even the birds stop their noisy chatter to watch his coming. The thirsty earth’s dry tongue avoids the travel- weary feet, licks at the pathway puddles but is not satisfied. Silence comes. Still. ShakespeareContinue Reading

Morn at its bright birth Brought light’s sweet forthcoming hue rejecting the dark. Lynette Esposito has been published in Poetry Quarterly, Inwood Indiana, Walt Whitman Project, That Literary Review, North of Oxford, and others. She was married to Attilio Esposito.Continue Reading

Marco had schizophrenia.  He thought he was magic. When he walked down the street and was in his normal state, he acted with kindness.  He gave the few coins his sister gave to him, to the ones with signs that said “HUNGRY.” He wasn’t hungry.  At least not today.  AtContinue Reading

Dr. Harry Porter ran his long slender surgeon’s fingers through his thick dark hair. He was new to medicine in some ways and not so new in others. He had been doctoring and innovating since before he was ten. The stories he could tell. A neighborhood cat had had itsContinue Reading

It was just before sunset every twenty-four hours to the second. She appeared, whispered one word; then was gone.  I stood on the hill behind the house for fifteen years just before twilight at that exact same time trying to hear the word. Every time, a bird chirped, a truckContinue Reading

I was riding a blind horse down the center of town Horns honked Women screamed Men heehawed mouths wide open– all I could see is calamity; the horse saw nothing, followed the guidance of my gentle nudge of the reins on his neck showing him his way home after cashingContinue Reading

Under a canopy of blue sky A light breeze lifts the new leaves on summer trees. Flocks of blackbirds season the backyard Like pepper cloves sprinkled randomly on a green earth.   A flurry, a swirl charging the mix to flight. and silence falls as if they were never there.Continue Reading