“Buoys,” by CJ Hauser
Jan01

“Buoys,” by CJ Hauser

I have two lobsters in my bathtub and I’m not sure I can kill them. New England will know if I don’t. Henry is from Maine, which I found charming, until we moved here post-honeymoon. I am sitting on the rim of my bathtub. It has curled, porcelain feet with flaky rust between the toes. Everything is anthropomorphized in this house- that’s my first problem. My second problem is that I pet the lobsters. I roll up a sleeve and run my...

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“A Redhead Brunette and Blonde: My Muse was a Bird,” by Jennifer Ruden
Jan01

“A Redhead Brunette and Blonde: My Muse was a Bird,” by Jennifer Ruden

The first one to quit writing had fiery red hair and a penchant for dark haired men (and women) who lacked formal education. Once, while we were in graduate school, we woke up in the same bed. “Now this doesn’t worry me,” she had said. “But he does.” She motioned to a young man crashed on the sofa: jeans around his ankles, tender white boxers dangerously close. “Do you know who that is?” I did not. The redhead wrote poems about...

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“The Impermanence of Human Sculptures,” by Tanaya Winder
Jan01

“The Impermanence of Human Sculptures,” by Tanaya Winder

The essential “arrangements”— choose a coffin to keep her   protected from “the elements.” Given sufficient time we rust like iron, disintegrate in the presence of air   moisture and water. The palpable aging of paper.   Do we all sleep like marble statues, fixed points in a room with locked expressions? Interpreting the abstract   space dangling between waking and sleeping is an obsessive repetition....

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Carolyn Guinzio Awarded 2010 To the Lighthouse Prize
Dec15

Carolyn Guinzio Awarded 2010 To the Lighthouse Prize

Carolyn Guinzio’s manuscript “Spoke & Dark” is the winner of the 2010 To the Lighthouse Poetry Publication Prize, selected by judge Alice Quinn.  

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Heron Island by Roberta Harold
Nov24

Heron Island by Roberta Harold

Heron Island by Roberta Harold   AROHO’s Ghost Ranch retreats have been the literary equivalent of blood transfusions for me, full of inspiration, challenge, learning, and fellowship. Something strange and magical happens when the wheels of my car rattle over the cattle-guard, an energizing and calming suffusion as bracing and clear as the high desert air. I’m inspired by the generosity of spirit that drove...

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