home:

selected past writing at 42opus

 

Because of This We Were Late, Everything Got Mixed Up. Later I Broke the Door. Or, The Leaving by LYN LIFSHIN

I thought it was

odd at first. Take

off your clothes you

said, unbuttoning yours…

2 March 2002 | poetry

 

Seminars in Art by JESS BURNQUIST

One mother used to boil orange rinds in sugar for hours to form a leathered candy. When her daughter was released from Dachau, she vowed no tears. Then the soldier tore the skin of an orange. Today, I read in the Encyclopedia of Birthdays that orange is a calming color for those born in April. I can't paint my walls this spring without picturing a mother boiling sweets for silenced tongues. I place my compositions in the corner. People think it isn't risky to be a satellite. My god, what I've never seen.

2 November 2009 | poetry, prose poem

 

What Heaven Might Be Like by LARRY T. MENLOVE

I started worrying about my ride home right after Dr. Thursgard told me I could put my bra and shirt back on. I didn't know it would happen so fast. Deke had driven me to the office and made sure I was signed in and sat with me in the waiting room for twenty minutes, but then he left to go get his wooling shears sharpened.

30 July 2007 | fiction, short story

 

Iowa by RICKY GARNI

oh I cannot mention what I saw but I will tell you that it involved a celebrity.

2 December 2003 | poetry, prose poem

 

Don't Scream by CAROLINA VARGAS

Cut, cut the envelope says.

Keep it deep

and hide

my father says.


I obey limits, green soup

and insomnia.

14 November 2009 | poetry

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

copyright © 2001-2011
XHTML // CSS // 508