Clerical Work

Clerical Work

After the waning, half-blue moon, behind my eye,
the smokestack appears with yellow sky,
a praise-song, and a tear.
Remember man that you began in woman.
Remember man your fetal form (once you were female too).
Remember this and praise our song.

Blood is Thicker Than Wine

And we fight about the bread and the shrimp and the Pepsi
because the Christmas tree has short needles.
And I’m sorry ours was so small. No, you’re not a bad mother.
Just shut up!
Paul’s eyelashes are sticking together—don’t you see?
He’s not even here and you love him.


Linda Muller has resurrected her writing soul living in Iowa City, attending weekend workshops and hoping to start up a poetry slam in the City of Literature.



The Bottle

By James Miller / 08/23/2018

Our Souls Refracted Through a Mesh

By Kevin McGowan / 09/10/2018

The Year the Colors Changed

By Siobhan Tebbs / 08/27/2018

Commonly Held Beliefs About Lesbians and Other Commonly Held Beliefs

By Nikki Smith / 09/18/2018

When the Crows Spoke Only Once

By Benjamin Mark / 09/10/2018