Stirring : A Literary Collection
Sundress Publications


John Amen Portraits of Anne #11
Rachel Dacus At the Thousand Cranes Auto Repair
Christina Wos' Donnelly Creation Myth
Jeremiah Gilbert Constructing the Nativity
Richard Hillman When Two Poets Collide
Dorianne Laux The Student
Christopher Major Taken Away (for DL)
Frank Matagrano Something about Milk, Something about Meat
Kris Raido For Teeth
Fiona Robyn Jam
Diana Rosetti Woman Flashing
Leonore Wilson Amoroso


Karin L. Becker Autumn Rain
I didn't notice the old maple tree in the campground until I backed up into it. He came running out of the tent wearing nothing but a shriek. It's not that I didn't see the tree, it's just that I was looking at another part of it, it's starry brick red leaves blowing across the windshield.
Alison Daniel Nurses Who Love Too Much
She muttered something about perfect foreplay as she flexed her body into a sleek cat's back as if she contained within her all the mystical secrets related to extensive yoga experiences like the time she spent at a retreat twisting herself on the meditation mat of her dreams until, straightening herself out, she woke up to fall in love with something other than cigarettes and kalamata olives, something other than to simply exist in the saffron colored rice in the begging bowl of her sad single life.
James Lineberger Ev'rybody's Somebody's Fool
One of my first jobs after college was servicing a weekly premium route for an old-line insurance company. Most of the customers were cotton mill workers who got paid on Friday and doled it out according to how far they had got behind, or to whoever, at the moment, seemed the most important.
Norman Lock A Discourse on History
When the Bishop entered my dreams, I had to kill him. Surely you can understand that! Consider how he dogged me through the streets of Mombasa, howling anathemas after me for my "licentiousness." He was referring to my shameless pursuit of Mrs. Willoughby, whose charming house on Prince Albert Street drew me, as it had drawn Kong to her very bed.
M.L. Roth The New Haggadah
He sits at our table, elbows up, gesticulating with hands and fingers, shooting the breeze, shouting bravura about sandlot baseball, picking up girls on the east side, sock hops, car-hops, and making out. Later he be-bopped at U.S.O. dances, and once, "I even shook hands with Ike!"


John Running Donna & Kelsy

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