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.
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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