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Cover - Issue 47 



Cue the Polka Band

Cold waves slap the sand and the sun's too pale to tan. The water's unfriendly and the girls are gone. The twilight's all apples and pumpkins. I'm sat on a towel with an unopened book pining for peaches and watermelon.
 

by Kenyon Ledford of Ojai 

 

Sorry, Boy

The full moon is losing oil, inking up the night, a night which lies beyond my dog who's trapped behind the sliding glass door. He smiles at it and wags his tail slowly--like he can freaking see angels out there. But the air is too empty for even a breeze to fill, and if whistles be demons, me and my dog disagree on 'open the door.'
 
by Kenyon Ledford of Ojai