by Guinevere M. Campbell Tonight, on strange, delicate roads, curling, weaving, like intestines through the land, we drive. There. Not there. There. Not there. We ride over an already dead animal. We override our already dead thoughts with music and talk. Ahead, a black ball tumbles into the road — we are here. we are…

Read More ›

Writer’s Block

by Guinevere M. Campbell Sometimes, words won’t dare to form. Or only incomplete thoughts adorn your lips, or echo from your fingertips through your chosen instrument. It’s then colors and sounds vibrate — your mind now set free to meditate on senses you once believed incapable of expression. But now it’s unmistakeable: Ideas once vague…

Read More ›

My City Apartment

by Guinevere Molly Campbell Preparing for my nightly visitors I open my windows: Big Red cries up and down distant twisting streets, as close by, “ka-smack!” go the boys on wheeled, wooden planks gnashing curbs and gliding over new asphalt. The trees, with their newly sprouted chlorophyll, sit quietly, as gentle winds tease them with…

Read More ›