Miles Varana
Miles Varana’s work has appeared in Typehouse, The Penn Review, and Passages North. He has worked previously as a staff reader and editor at Hawai’i Pacific Review. Miles lives in La Crosse, Wisconsin, where he works in journalism and does his best to be a good Millennial despite disliking tandem bike rides.
The following work is Copyright © 2023, and owned by Miles Varana and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Grace
I read the Atlantic,
watch Succession,
have seen fear in
a handful rich guys.
But before we
eat, these words:
tomorrow, the
only haves and
have nots will
be those who have
caught a t-shirt
from a t-shirt cannon
at a Vanilla Ice
show, and those
who have not.
Ray Corvi
Ray Corvi’s work was published or is forthcoming in Brushfire, DASH Literary Journal, Evening Street Review, FRiGG Magazine, Neologism Poetry Journal, OPEN: Journal of Arts & Letters, The Penmen Review, Sage Cigarettes Magazine, The Seattle Star, Sublunary Review, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Triggerfish Critical Review, Whimperbang, and Whistling Shade.
The following work is Copyright © 2023, and owned by Ray Corvi and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
[SHE DREAMT]
She dreamt of a rancid lump of meat
Rotting in her purse
& went to the doctor who prescribed her a dirty martini
& a love letter
& told her to make a flower garden
& face north-northwest when she goes to sleep
She said, “Does this mean I’m dying?”
He said, “I’ve written down your dream”
Took out a pack of cigarettes, opened it
And said, “Take one and go”
She said, “My train won’t be here for another hour”
He said, “When it comes, leave your bags behind”
Then she felt like a nude body
Embracing a barnacled stone
Being pounded by the surf
Then like a featherless bird
Falling through the air
Then like a bacterium hard at work
In the doctor’s small intestine
Thinking to herself:
I couldn’t tell if he was saying
Ann-Marie or enemy or memory
I don’t have a daughter
And never will
