The online literary journal of Greenfield Community College

Raymond

Raymond

  No pleasure in meat, dairy, sugar, white flour, nor in novels, military history, science fiction, or organized religion. He’s not without reverence– Cecil Taylor, Allen Ginsberg, glacial erratics. He curses when he loses traction, skins his knee. “Age,” he tells the bathroom mirror, “is a state of mind. That...
70 Soles

70 Soles

   estremezco del brillo de cuerpo en cuerpo del brillo del frío de cuero de ante parezco sencillo soy cuerpo en cuerpo mi tribu me cerca son sobrevivientes y yo sobrevivo con tribu y cuerpo y bajo del combi ya sola de nuevo   Translation: I shiver from the shine...
A Shoe

A Shoe

   ruimc77 via Compfight   A shoe hung from the gutter. Caught by its white laces, the shoe didn’t move. It was like a rabbit held by the ears. The woman didn’t know how it got onto the roof of her house. It hadn’t been there yesterday. She was sure...
Dead Reputations

Dead Reputations

Bryan Brenneman via Compfight   He had been in a hell of a fight like being kicked twenty times in the head. Of course, he would know, like that time coming out of Driscoll’s, fighting those three guys from the flats, the tall one saying, This stupid shit won’t stay...
Will Anyone Harbor a Broken Poetess?

Will Anyone Harbor a Broken Poetess?

    Book-skimming is a bit like brushing fingertips across the face of the ocean. You caress a page and probe no deeper. Turn to the art tomes when words go from chime-clear to brassy. By the window of the bookhaven perches the kind of woman you don’t ask for...
Latest submissions
Hide and Seek

Hide and Seek

In those days change was law. After the day’s lawn faced the sky blue speech, Or its parade of clouds rolling like floats east, It looked up at one or two stars, Bordered by the two darkening maples and one big willow. The lawn had no eyes, but the dizzy Boy and girl, lying at...
Radioactive Girlfriend

Radioactive Girlfriend

Red hot isotope spit’n mama Baby you glow in the dark Entropic activity stirs a switch Half-life flesh ignites subliminal twitch Synaptic hormonal chain reaction Turgid particle accelerator raised for action Burning fire of unquenchable quantum desire Control rod guided deeper averts subatomic meltdown Your fission-fueled libido could light cities Radioisotope fire that burns so...
White Queen

White Queen

  If you make Your decision How am I to argue? A Mite with no knees. But I beg a plea That will go heard or unheard. The Moon gleams White And has no record for Keeping score But crosses in Her timely fashion As the Spider whirls its thread For foster flies to wed....
The Visit

The Visit

Cool air wakes her abruptly. The neck of her oversized cotton nightgown has fallen, revealing a mass on her chest that protrudes like an awkward third breast. She is hardly aware of it but for a familiar lethargy that lingers within her. She looks down at a pair of hands, liver-spotted and sagging over bone. A television...
Rocket City, USA

Rocket City, USA

My father, a career IBM man, was one of myriad late-1960’s NASA-related personnel contracted in the effort to beat the Russians to the moon, and a few months in “I Dream Of Jeannie”-era Cocoa Beach was just part of the drill. It remains amazing to me how antiquated, yet currently unfathomable, is the notion of...
Still Life

Still Life

  The mother of all storms is upon us. We are taken aback, our skirts blow up. We show our panties, bad girls all of us, march off to school with our lunch boxes open. Do you want my apple? Do you want my pear? See all the fruit for the taking, piled high in...
I Love My Beard

I Love My Beard

Officer, I’ve told you exactly what happened. I’ve been here all day and, frankly, I don’t appreciate being treated like a criminal. Now, I’ve answered all your questions, filled out a report, and signed my statement. What more could you possibly want from me? Again? You want me to go over what we’ve already been...
Ode to the Crumb

Ode to the Crumb

  Speck of cheese, dot of bread, slivered hint of once pie. They stir up our hunger, send a flare down desire’s dark hole, invite us to rise up again from here. A crumb of bird humming contends, hungry, with the bee. Green-back glow and the long beak sneaks into flowers with smooth insertion until...
GCC's Exquisite Corpse

GCC’s Exquisite Corpse

Among Surrealist techniques exploiting the mystique of accident was a kind of collective collage of words or images called the cadavre exquis (exquisite corpse). Based on an old parlor game, it was played by several people, each of whom would write a phrase on a sheet of paper, fold the paper to conceal part of...
How to Fall: An Interview with Susan Stinson

How to Fall: An Interview with Susan Stinson

Susan Stinson is the Writer in Residence at Forbes Library in Northampton, Massachusetts, and the author of Belly Songs, Fat Girl Dances with Rocks, Venus of Chalk, and Martha Moody. Her upcoming book, Spider in a Tree (Small Beer Press, Oct 2013), is historical fiction chronicling the life of Jonathan Edwards, one of the great...
The World's Greatest Salesman

The World’s Greatest Salesman

Dad was dying. I was the only one of the children without a steady job and so the obvious choice to fly down to Florida and navigate him through to the end. The morning after I arrived at his condo, he entered the hospital for the last time. There were going to be more X-rays...
Apologies

Apologies

  “Apologies” was a collaborative project that invited people to send us poems, stories, paragraphs or whatever that told the story of a wrong-doing of which the author was not really sorry for.  Below are the five pieces we received. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I lied on this invitation. And I’m glad I did it. I’d do it...