Literary Yard

Search for meaning

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Last impressions of the night

By: Christian My mind is aimless like a wandering arrow hurtled from an inexpert bow Or like an open fuse with no outlet to fulfill it, Hissing sparks indignantly against whatever stands ahead. My brain, despair besieging it, writhes in agony,…

Carla, Swept Away

By: Casey Robb September 1961 The storm is blowing in all black and swirly. I am dancing in the street, twirling, like the clouds. Carla has arrived. Her wind lashes my back, my yellow slicker flapping like a feral thing….

Dial Zero for the Desk Clerk

By: Paul Beckman 1 The noise in the closet keeps me awake. It’s not a noise I recognize so I call the desk clerk. He comes up to my room in quick time. He knocks; I open the door as wide…

After All These Years

By: Paul Beckman I almost passed my father on the subway (#6) this afternoon. I was moving—making room for the influx when the line stopped with me looking down at him. He was wearing a Yankees hat, a parka and…

The Chinese Food Factory

By Art Gatti Shortly after arriving on Bank Street in Manhattan’s all-but-deserted West Village, I took on the family of a hippie earth mother from Princeton and we squoze into my tiny apartment and tried not to step on each…

Black Ribbons

By: Paul Beckman Sarah safety-pinned on her dress a piece of cloth from her mother’s apron, a corner off her father’s tallit, and a piece from her brother’s baseball uniform. Then, leaving the hotel, she took a cab to the synagogue….

Unquenchable thirst for you

By: Milton P. Ehrlich  Ever since we parted, my throat is parched for your chocolate-covered cherry eyes that see what no one else can see—your mouth, the taste of a sea of mahogany mousse, and your belly button a bright red…