David Hassler: Spaghetti Dinners
I pour Lynn a glass of wine and make a toast: “To our future life together.” We stare into each other’s eyes and smile. Unable to wait any longer, I ask Lynn if she will marry me. She says yes, and I begin to cry. I am here, in this place, with a beautiful woman who loves me.
Song of Songs, Canticles 1-8
I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys[….]
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
Andrew McFadyen-Ketchum: Heaven-Fire
The boy is not my blood
Though “Son” is the only name I have for “He-
Who-Will-Dance-To-Just-About-Anything,”
Erma Bombeck: Housework Can Kill You If Done Right
I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage.
Carol Frost: Scorn
How had they not been wounded? And wounded they’d convalesced in the same rooms
and bed.
Wayne Karlin: Because You Are Not Here
Because you are not here
you are always here
Jennifer Harman: When parents turn children into weapons, everybody loses
Domestic abuse can involve one parent using a child as a weapon against the other parent, which harms the child in immense ways. My research has identified how these dynamics play out and examines the damage.
Michael Simms: Portrait of Unknown Couple
He sketched in charcoal
the arch of a shoulder
the movement of a hand
the woman’s head
turned and tilted slightly
toward the man
Bill Blum: Welcome to the New Era of Rightwing Judicial Supremacy
The U.S. Supreme Court has entered a legal fantasy world: advancing a regressive political agenda free from democratic accountability.
Michael Simms: Mary Jo and Aline
Mornings they loved best
sitting over long breakfast
light slanting over them
Bhikshuni Sama: Without Argument
When I was young, my mother told me that I would find true happiness only in marriage.
Edison Jennings: Homebound
it wasn’t death that did them part
(that came later), but the lifeguard
at the public pool who parted them
quite easily
Megan Merchant / Luke Johnson: Origin Story (An Epistolary Dialogue)
From our window, grosbeaks
and buntings tangle into flight. The hours count
earlier now, because of the way they are lit.
Alison Luterman: A Woman Speaks of Marriages
I’ve known marriages like Niagaras, that splashed and thundered,
whose couples careened down them bravely, wearing only barrels.
