POETRY
Amy M. Bartlett	Letter on the Eve of My Wedding
Janet I. Buck	Compendium
Robert B. Cooke	White Flight
Jerry Dreesen	Never Open a Suitcase in the Rain
Richard Fein	Matriphagy
Kathleen Sullivan Isacson	Vigil
Duane Locke	Ashes
Laurence Overmire	Learning How
Cristina Querrer	Musings from an Airport Window
Preston Mark Stone	Vespers
IA SLAM WINNERS
Sharon Peterson	Mamma Nací Muy Tarde (Mother I Was Born Too Late)
Erin Elizabeth	For Someone With Eyes Less Like Her Own
C.K. Scott	The Penitent
PROSE
Craig Johnson	Syrian Rapsodiazul
	The hump or apex was the beginning of the hottest hours and that time was hours gone now, and now the cold breaths of Hades took over and traversed the dunes, threatening to blow the awakening stars from the scaffolds of the sky behind them.
Michael Karpinski	All the Underground Madmen
	I awake to find they have put me in a room in the ground, six feet by six feet, in which I exist with a table and chair and walls charcoal gray.
Paul Toth	Memories of Salvador
	Christmas will be the first holiday we change, as it has been decided that it will be celebrated on the Fourth of July, when normally the island celebrates the birth of America, which has long been our benefactor and, it can even be said, our second savior, until now, at least.
Degas Trout	Syndicated
	I didn't expect it to work out like this when Thornton and I moved to Hollywood. We had dreams deeply instilled waiting to ferment. Thornton's the actor. I just came along for the ride.
PLAY
John P. McWilliams	Office Hours
	I admit that I may have been distracted by them on occasion, in particular when you do not wear those damnable panty-hose. It's a mere diversion; haven't you ever allowed yourself to indulge your libido in a brief, momentary, wandering fantasy?
PHOTOGRAPHY
Erin Hitzelburg	Wist

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