Fiction
Little Animals
by Mike Hampton
The cafeteria is quiet. The only
exception is a television playing cartoons in the corner,
but no one is watching it. Since it is lunchtime, I'm
waiting with surgical gloves and a bucket full of
detergent for the first patient to vomit. One of them
always vomits during meal times. I've worked here long
enough to know what to expect. The staff members all
believe that they do it on purpose. The directors say
they can't help themselves.
I look down the first folding table at the plastic
trays—red, blue, yellow, the cheery colors of a
Lifesavers roll—and waiting for one of the
patients to start heaving over their trays. ...
Fiction
55 Blocks
by Rochelle Jewel Shapiro
My elementary school, P.S. 44 in Rockaway Beach, had broken windows, and all the drinking fountains were stuffed with gum and ran yellow water. The cafeteria was in the basement, and lunches were ladled out...
Read morePoetry
Confesiones de la Luna
by Xico González
La gente no sabe
quién es el culpable.
pero yo lo sé,
he presenciado sus muertes desde
[el '93
Desde lo alto me he dado cuenta
Mis ojos lo han oido...
Poetry
The Barbershop
by Renée Ruderman
Her mother dropped her
at the red and blue pole.
The girl tiptoed inside
the stall of a shop
choked in after-shave,
cigar smoke and leather strops
hanging like rulers
from the immense chairs
bursting in silver circles
off the floor.