Posts Tagged ‘ Two Hawks ’

Defeating the Forces of Café Amore by Laurie Barton

When he wakes up and complains about your coffee, just smile. Show no concern that it's seven o'clock, and he's out the door, rushing toward the nubile barista at Café Amor.
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Mulling Spices by Jennifer Bradpiece

A little of this, a dab that,
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TAGORE’S KISS by Shome Dasgupta

The echoes in Kolkata’s Albert Hall Cafe were vibrant and gloomy. As I sat at a table and read Tagore’s “The Living and the Dead,” the indiscreet murmur of the room settled into my head rather than Tagore’s words. I folded the top corner of the leaf and closed the book. I looked around...
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Without Words by Philip C. Barragan, II

The sound of our footsteps echoed through the hall. Dozens of faces too ill to smile stared at us as we tried not to look into their rooms. Hushed conversations mingled with the odors of Lysol, bleach and fresh flowers. We arrived at our destination.
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Dichos, and the Things my Mother Told Me by Philip Barragan

A Thousand Sad Pieces Golden light created a soft waterfall through the dense canopy of trees in the mountain village, filtering through the early morning mist rising from the valley below, falling sporadically on the roof of his adobe home. It crawled gently down the walls looking for the...
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The Masked Boxer by Marykate Linehan

It was 13 years ago. I am 9 years old. It is a sweltering summer. The ocean breeze arrives right before sundown. The neighborhood children and I have gathered to play Flying Colors. We are choosing teams. A younger, filthy boy (resembling Pig Pen) walks up to me. “ Girls can’t do anything!” Hunter...
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Making Movies by Martha Woodroof

I was 21, living in Houston, and appearing in a play called Fire, when Robert Altman came to town to film BREWSTER MCLEOD, a now mostly-forgotten movie that was now mostly-forgotten actor Shelley Duval’s debut. Rumor had it Mr. Altman had plucked her from behind the cosmetics counter at Foley¹s department
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I Have A Thumb Like Carl by Darby Bailey

I Have Thumb Like Carl Inspired by the poem ‘Musings of a Police Reporter in the Identification Bureau’ by Carl Sandburg.
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Emancipation of Self (Through Loss of an Other) & Others by Crystal Moore

About Crystal Moore: As an artist, I think in images. Instead of stringing together words, I compose visual essays of form, symbolic meaning, light, time, and context. I think of art as a tool and as a process. It can be used as a catalyst for dialog and can help promote social and personal...
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the jasmine hedge is intoxicating by Gretchen Mattox

I fear being like her and I am like her the critical part that wants to hurt the other render them helpless and needy no one measuring up, everything falling short
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Bugs By Morgan W. Strauss

Instead of thinking about Sonny, his traveling companion wishes she were in Spain. How far of a drive is it from Granada to Barcelona? Twenty miles south of Fresno a sign says Visalia 24 miles. Sonny pilots the car with dirty hands, a torn shirt, an unintentional beard,...
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