Sunday, September 30, 2007


"After a drink at the Tavern"
by Caili Wilk

Labor Day again, and my sister
gave birth, while I was walking

down the pier hand in hand thinking,
we must, at least, look like lovers.

I even believed it myself as we
kissed and thought we should be.

Caili Wilk is a student and hopes to graduate one day, though probably not in May. She was born and raised in the UK, but after almost 13 years in California, sometimes she is mistaken for an Australian.

Friday, September 21, 2007


by Linda Benninghoff

You blew bubbles
From a bubble kit
In the bookstore restaurant
Saying, I don't care if they kick me out.
I think you are ushering in the spring
Although there are fine lines in your face
And I don't always believe in your magic.

All winter,
You went from crowded diner to diner
Where you laughed and talked
With strangers.
You watched TV
(British comedies, movies, Jeopardy)
In a rented room;
We didn't get together 'til Easter.

Like someone
Whose wonderment is dying,
You sought it again
In a field where you fed horses.
The roan mare nuzzled you,
And the Apoloosa swished her tail.

Once at dusk, you took your car
Through scraggly woods
To the yet-unmarked grave
Of your husband
Wanting magic again.

Linda Benninghoff has published in about 60 magazines, both online and in print. She's published two chapbooks, Departures and The Street Where I Was a Child. Linda translated The Seafarer from Anglo-Saxon; the translation appears at She won the Poetry Superhighway contest last year and was a finalist this year.