I stood with a small group of people, huddled close to one another, as they mourned the dead. The sky overhead rolled with thick grey clouds; a constant churning mass of darkness that spit torrential rain down upon the earth. Water slicked down our coats, and followed the path the of our clothes until it … Continue reading »
Tag Archives: Writers
The Current Market by James Curtiss
There was a time when coke was much cheaper. But that was after all in the 90s; and what’s more, its rise in price is nothing compared to what taxes have done to smoking. Two when I started, seven bucks is the going rate for a pack of smokes in Ann Arbor. But coke is … Continue reading »
Re-collection by Anthony Ward
I can no longer remember my first memory… I recall a time I was able to remember it, Can sense the fondness, Feel the reverberations of its echo, But can’t for the life of me recollect how it went. What is this memory of a memory When not a memory itself? Continue reading »
Moon Child by Jason O’Rourke
During the winter it gets dark early in Belfast. You may grudgingly accept that this is the price you pay for those heady long summer nights, but even so, it’s December now, and June is a long way off. It’s difficult to conjure the memory of warmth and blue evening skies when it’s pitch black … Continue reading »
Prayer by Rebecca Gaffron
working lines unseen by regular heroes, cutting patterns like blood offerings to wash away some sin you don’t believe in but still claim and suffer for. the sound, lost between shudder and song, as you take flight. snowbound, yet with wings that work, an exercise in movement as prayer. and there is grace in your … Continue reading »
First Print Edition The Blue Hour Magazine
We are currently working on the Spring print edition based on online contributions. We will choose pieces from our pool of online publications from the start of The Blue Hour through March 31st. All pieces published after that date will not be eligible for this print edition. So if you have submissions and would like … Continue reading »
The Meteorologist’s Breasts by Paul Hostovsky
which are right next to the hurricane which is inching up the east coast are lovely and on the small side. The hurricane is predicted to be the biggest to hit the east coast since they started naming hurricanes in 1953. Love is greater than fear said the bumper sticker on the truck in front … Continue reading »
2 poems by Corey Mesler, Fill My Days and Fear (Noun, Verb)
Fill My Days Fill my days with love and rancor, passion, ecstasy and terror, peace and voices, and books stacked like cordwood. Give me women with lips red like candy, silvered hair and large contours, or more modestly apportioned, women with stories as long as sagas. Tell me the names we used when we thought … Continue reading »
Market Day by Philip Vermaas
My father is not a market person, not a wanderer amongst the trinkets unless he’s committed to the whim of others and, in good humour, is going along and taking that measure of alleviation which you do when doing things others enjoy. My father is not a market person, he’s a scheduler and surgical shopper … Continue reading »
