Marjorie Maddox Inside One house and this rhythm of ritual: 6:00 am, 8:00 am, 4:00 pm—our laptops open in the kitchen, the living room, a bedroom, Hellos at the refrigerator, while ascending/ descending the stairs, the constant tap of keys the background of faraway horses we’re all riding— professor/parents, one-day professor/son— across this long expanse of knowledge where we’re kicking up dust someone goes out for a walk; someone returns on our way to a strange horizon we hope is sunrise. Good morning. Good afternoon. Good night. And we gather for whatever’s unfrozen or freshly baked, and we watch…
Author: Mom Egg Review
Twila Newey self-isolation Penelope’s Time to move slowly, up and down, as threads of grass in a strong wind without destination—bend, straighten, bend, straighten warp: : : to hold still in tension. weft: : : to move through tense— to have loved, to love, to have lost, to lose, to have passed, to pass Is language time passed through a loom continuously woven & unwoven ? Do not ask Odysseus for a straight answer he will give you a hero’s story, a…
Sarah Sarai The Crooked Road Without Improvement “…among the most disturbing things to me were the long paved streets.” Nietzsche / Jugendschriften She is young: a fact which proves nothing. A twelve-year old in an abode on the crooked road without improvement: a strait winding itself round, the asphalt roar of a cement mixer churning, the resolve of a chute. To offset appetites for suburban nostalgia think: rats: scurrying: ivy’s sprinkler-ed banks before the house, before as in: I trembled before the hanging judge, so trembled ivy before the squatting house. No rats in the house squat atop…
Sarah Dickenson Snyder Skinhunger Don’t feel lost right now, I tell myself. Remember the skinhunger of your life— each new romantic love blossoming in your hand having to be on his leg as you sat shoulder to shoulder, the first moment she was placed on your chest, the way nursing was a gift, something holy, that favorite photograph of her sleeping on your sleeping self—motherlove. Skinhunger, huidhonger in Dutch. To mesh two words & name the unnamable, right now seeing neighbors walking by—your hand pulled to the windowpane. Sarah Dickenson Snyder has three poetry collections, The…
Sunita Theiss Sleep Regression Hours pass as he offers his unanswered tears, His pleading cries, anything for a sign from his mother. Tonight he wails, helpless— Will he learn what is true? That disappointments number greater than the waves that rolled across his tiny brown feet, that the earth is not forever, that his father is not infallible. His mother is no saint. He learns not to keep promises, that grief is lifelong. He learns tenderness is fleeting, And earthly comforts are just that. When do we tell him about eternity? That the truth isn’t his to discover, we…
MER VOX Quarterly – Summer 2020 Folios RIDING THE DANGEROUS WIND Flash Fiction curated by Tara Lynn Masih Emma Bolden, Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello, Kathy Fish, Sherrie Flick, Rosie Forrest,Tara Laskowski, Dawn Raffel, Mary McLaughlin Slechta, Claudia Smith, Julia Strayer “The reality is, global warming and pandemics are intertwined. Because civilizations are encroaching on wildlife territory, we’re being exposed to animal viruses we’re not accustomed to. Everything is connected. Protect the wild, we protect ourselves….I hope you read these poetic, dreamy, sometimes magical flashes that are packed with vibrant images and that explore women’s issues with skill, sensitivity, depth, and even humor…
J.P. Howard Tanka for my Son During a Pandemic Our teen wants to stay safe inside our home each day We shelter him in Our home, the safest space now We Mamas don’t push, just love Haibun for Resilience during a Pandemic we are writing our way through grief. we are finding new ways to be joyful. we are telling fear to have a back seat. some days we are scared and alone. we are never truly alone. we are only a phone call or a poem away from someone who loves us. we are love and…
We Stand With the People The Offing Dear readers, We have been and will always be committed to the work of Black, Indigenous, POC, Women, GNC, LGBTQ+, Disabled, and all marginalized peoples. It is with a heavy heart that we have seen the current administration feign ignorance and responsibility during a global pandemic. It is also that same administration that has been pivotal in normalizing abuses of power, racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, and ableism. At this very moment people have taken to the streets all across this nation and made it abundantly clear: WE WILL NOT LET THIS STAND! But…
Curated by Tara Lynn Masih Riding the Dangerous Wind I’m so very glad I was finally able to take up Marjorie’s standing invitation to edit a flash fiction portfolio for the Mom Egg. Marjorie is one of those rare editors whose commitment to writers has only grown over the many years I’ve known her. She’s created a special space and has outlasted many lit journals because of the relationship she builds with her writers and her community. Back in January, I solicited 10 writers whose work I admire for the portfolio. I asked them to create a flash…
A Literary Folio Curated by J. P. Howard Featured Poets Anna Limontas-Salisbury Danielle Stelluto Jennifer Franklin J.P. Howard Kim Brandon Nicole Callihan Patricia Starek I write this during an unprecedented time in the world. Many, if not most of us around the country/world, have been sheltered-in for months, due to COVID-19 and the current pandemic. This pandemic has caused enormous loss of life, incredible stress and collective grief; as I write this, thousands of protesters are marching and chanting outside of my Brooklyn, NY window seeking justice for black lives, violently taken away from us too soon,…