Edition One.

1. Trouble in Eden

Jerry Wells

God wants you to know that he left

a crate of peaches on the front stoop.

He would tell you himself but you're

away and he doesn't like to leave

messages. He said you haven't spoken

to him much lately. Maybe peaches

are the real route to a woman's heart;

He would know, He always does.

It's not like you to forsake

Him like that. I know

you have your reasons,

you always do.

Your sheets fell off the line

the other day. I put them back for you,

I hope you noticed. They smelled like you.

That scent hasn't seen

my side of the Garden

since you left. I hope you

write back, either to me or God.

He worries, you know.

Jerry is a Junior at Randolph College majoring in English. He is also a member of the cross country team.

2. Daddy Issues

Maggy Roza

My dad packed his bags in late October and slammed

the door as he left. We watched him climb

into the passenger seat of Coach Mulligan’s white Suburban

through a crack in the blinds, and all Mom would say

as she stared at our lunchboxes

was that he was going to Chicago.

The first time a boy hit me,

I thought I was dreaming. People just don’t do that anymore,

I thought,

but he slapped me with the back of his hand

and his football ring sliced my cheek.

I watched the goldfish on my therapist’s desk drift in sickly circles.

She said that men would always be a challenge for me. She said

I’d have a hard time trusting them,

because my dad had never been a good dad, and it

was natural to choose men like my father.

Now it’s all I think about. I watch a girl in the mirror

at a party, rubbing up on a jock, and all I see are

daddy issues wrapped in a mini skirt.

Maggy is a poet from Sacramento, California. She has four siblings, idolizes Jack Kerouac, and despises Southern hospitality. She plans one day to write a punk rock opera.

3. juicies

ebm700

plum..p!

swollen

taut

begging me to

bite in

and eagerly

rip and tear

no care

only the need to

release

pour

into me

its ripened gift

and its grateful sweet sigh…

peach..y!

cleaved

to reach

its tiny pit

perfect

protected

in fleshy folds

pry

and try

with curious tongue

to tempt the bit—

shy

but yearning

to be exposed

encouraged

to finally meet

its devourer—

and yield…

cherry, cherry

toy and play

swirl and twirl

on sassy stem.

rouge red

stain on them—

the lips

that dare to take…

ebm700 is a woman of a certain age, musician, bodyworker. She enjoys her view of the river and the world, from her tiny turret in the city.