Posts by Craig Buchner

December 26, 2013 | Poetry

Two Poems

Craig Buchner

Those birds swept down with great urgency, talons punching the water, tearing into fish flesh, sometimes with a force that cut the salmon in two.

November 25, 2013 | Fiction

Other Animals

Craig Buchner

Win wasn't homeless, which set him apart from the others. But he'd hit rock-bottom, jobless and sharing enough to be one among them. In the fifty-station clinic, they were strapped to centrifuge

November 21, 2013 | Poetry

Spanking Diane Sawyer

Daniel Crocker

I want to spank Diane Sawyer
In fact, I'd pay upwards of
fifty dollars for it, at least
if she was wearing white cotton
panties

In my fantasy
I wonder
I stop and ask,
"Is

November 14, 2013 | Poetry

2 Poems

Karen Craigo

Ars Poetica

I want to say this
simply: I was out
near the river; the trees
were bare, and would be.
I saw no blacksnake
in the undergrowth,
but that doesn’t mean
it wasn’t there,

May 1, 2012 | Fiction

Wind

Elizabeth Crane

 

On the last day of her life, my grandmother woke up, went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, and looked into the mirror to discover that she was bald. Oh! she said. That's a fright. This

August 1, 2010 | Fiction

Giant Panda Monster

Craig Renfroe

I am a fifty foot and two inch panda monster. It’s time for my sacrifice. If it’s not there, then it’s time to rampage through the village. I live out in the woods, a deep ancient forest, trees

March 1, 2010 | Fiction

Chorale for the First Rental House on Your Block

Craig Davis

Outside on his porch was an indoor sofa. But he kept the lawn mowed. Early in the morning when the grass was still too wet — there he was, limping behind the mower, cursing God and us when it

December 1, 2008 | Fiction

Hunters

Eugene Cross

The winter I turned twenty-seven, I followed a woman who said she might love me to a small town in Northwest Pennsylvania, a go-between place that provided me with little comfort, except maybe to

June 1, 2006 | Fiction

Had It Not Been

Crissa Chappell

The guy at table six wiggled his fingers. “Mind if I asked a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” said Miranda, reaching for the check. He was going to anyway.

Table Six grinned. His sunburned

May 1, 2006 | Fiction

Pure Static

Craig Terlson

Dave wondered what had happened to the TV.
 

He had faraway memories of nature programs, black and white comedians with European accents and harshly lit news programs with stories as stark as