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…
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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…
Curated by Jennifer Martelli and Cindy Veach Isolation Welcome to the Mom Egg Review June VOX “Isolation” folio. It doesn’t take a pandemic to create isolation. Grief and depression can cause it, as can bullying and separation. Motherhood…
By Ana C.H. Silva One of my poetry mothers, Sharon Dolin, once gently challenged me, “Who are you reading right now?” I appreciated what she was really saying: to be a good writer, you need to be a great…
Here, At Home My current creative life is a ritual performed only for myself. A site-specific, home-bound durational piece. – – Lauren Sharpe, “Domesticity, Now” In recent weeks our relationships with our homes…
Kelly Bargabos All There Is The receptionist who collects the tickets unlocks the front door. The narrow hallway fills up. The line is organized and orderly, for the most part. They only get rowdy when someone takes too…
Sarah W. Bartlett Coming Home “Where we want to be is where we ought to live” – SWB, summer 1996 Apparently, I’ve been searching for a sense of home since childhood. In the great woods behind our…
Joanna Bettelheim Our Ex, Carol My father married my mother, whose name is Carolyn. After they divorced, he dated Carol. My mother bought a house in an adjacent neighborhood, keeping me in the same school district. My new bedroom…
Laura Dennis It’s Not Always Headline News Every morning, the same routine. Sip my coffee. Scan the news. Gasp at the pain in my gut. The headlines alone drive me to close my laptop and stare off into space.…
Lisa Hase-Jackson Cucumbers in July I keep forgetting to buy cucumbers. Other things on my mind, I guess, things I cannot forget, like my mother’s girlhood name, the one my aunts and uncles still use. Cee Cee. A…