An independent literary press featuring poetry and short fiction at the confluence of Charles Simic and Ray Bradbury. We publish books and a periodic digital magazine, Hidden Peak Review.
“Beauty is related not to loveliness but to a state in which reality plays a part.”
— WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
Spotlight
The Ending Is A Sharp Point To How I Was
my mother tells me about the symmetry of the roses on her own mother’s headstone how they hold within that ancient compressed animal her spirit — and in the end we are sitting on a bench in the garden I … Continue reading The Ending Is A Sharp Point To How I Was
Metaphysical Twitch
In high school health class we measured our body fat percentages in front of our peers. I’ve passed out three times in my life. One of them was there. We were watching a Dr. Phil segment on anorexic teenagers in … Continue reading Metaphysical Twitch
On Writing
Set out to gather words like field flowers, vine ripe vocabulary hung low from crooked branches, and all too often, I’ve failed the harvest. Can’t compose from stocked shelves, would rather see those redwoods at the edge of flame, bright … Continue reading On Writing
Sudden Illumination
Clinging to a garden wall, I warn axes going up across the field to go dark, to burn far less. They have control of everything and really only answer to themselves. In a crazy manner, I crash into a crab … Continue reading Sudden Illumination
Looking Ahead
I don’t have great expectations for the distant future. My woman keeps telling me that fifty years from now there won’t be an “us.” Just the usual engineering feats of tiny underground critters. So I’m making no plans for the … Continue reading Looking Ahead
A Gay Man In God’s Factory
On my day set aside for art, I painted the pearl crescent butterfly. I chose the male, not because I’m a misogynist, but its colors are brighter, more tailored to my palette. The one in my in-box was perfectly put … Continue reading A Gay Man In God’s Factory
Under Porch Light
Brother, we have grown apart. No more jumping on the beds. Then when your wife spoke of her troubles I saw your hands move, moths without flame, exactly as our father’s did while mother complained how it was too late … Continue reading Under Porch Light
Jigsaw Puzzles
The jigsaw puzzle had just been completed, all one thousand pieces of it, a few of the sections the paint worn thin from multiple uses and now in full display after many days, and many hands working to fit all … Continue reading Jigsaw Puzzles
Frail
Like rain-worn newspapers whose ink has leaked out, so does my soul as the words “you have relapsed” leave the lips of a finely-ironed coated man. The plans of hotel bookings, interviews and catacomb crawls crumble like last spring’s browning … Continue reading Frail
Patchwork
“I DON’T KNOW what happened, Ms. Garcia,” a student might say, holding up a vocabulary test marked in Amanda’s signature green pen. “It was like I’d never even seen the words before.” Amanda understands—words are tools; they can hurt you. … Continue reading Patchwork
A Study of Skeletons / A Cherry Tree Picked Clean
same as any other spring the crow beaks drip red and a wishbone is bleaching on the window sill – it’s nothing like blood, I know that now. I am kept up early by the dry snap of branches and … Continue reading A Study of Skeletons / A Cherry Tree Picked Clean
How to Translate the Wind
A slight shiver of the trees is considered by windologists as a mourning, not to be confused with a vibrant tousle of a leaf, which is, not surprisingly, its opposite: joy. A bird, flying just below gale-force winds is persistence. … Continue reading How to Translate the Wind
Watermelon Tourmaline
I hold the hummingbird with both hands and in that expanse it seems to me a ripple in the water — a reflection fractured like watermelon tourmaline with a sledgehammer. there’s no good reason now for dinner. I do not … Continue reading Watermelon Tourmaline
Alliance
Fatherhood seeds the reign of vulnerability: Steel-toe boots demand calloused but open palms, and the never-inning ending birthed a gritty bullpen. They’ve tweaked the mound but it’s always been like this. Fortunately, when clouds look like liger cubs, a maple … Continue reading Alliance
Years
He and his wife treated us to baseball, Good seats on the first base line. We cheered home runs with them, Shared popcorn, joked, talked family. Time passed, and there were gaps. Until I saw them just now in the … Continue reading Years
A Honey Summer Fruit Promise
Honey-flavored lozenges coating our throats, you split a mango in the tree shade by the lemonade stand, fleshing out the football shaped seed. Juices running down our chins, you begin a burial ceremony for all the mango seeds we have … Continue reading A Honey Summer Fruit Promise
Poem In Which I Experience One Emotion And Buy Craft Beer
It’s actually so easy. to lie if you’re doing most of it to yourself. I don’t like to practice. I think I’ll buy the one with pine tree resin. I think I’ll drink it in the skatepark. I would kiss … Continue reading Poem In Which I Experience One Emotion And Buy Craft Beer
Home
Into the dark and wide Des Moines I pour you, ashes fogging shallows. A moccasin in the rushes close by, Dark glisten, still as stone. Birdsong blesses the air, Bridge a silent acolyte. You rode ponies not far from here, … Continue reading Home
365 Days Sober
Unless you’re counting those few days in January — and also that time in June. I want to hold out my hand to everyone who needs it. I know some good people who spent so much time in the dark, … Continue reading 365 Days Sober
The Clearing
“WHAT’S THAT?” Emily turned Kaleb’s way and knocked a pillow to the floor. She said it again. “Hmm?” Kaleb said, half asleep. “That noise,” Emily said. She placed her hand on Kaleb’s chest. “Do you hear that?” Kaleb took a … Continue reading The Clearing
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