The Fade
by Dan Provost, Worcester, Mass.

She’ll take a shot or two with the boys
who still hoot and holler every time
she enters the room.

It helps take away the pain—as she
slowly looks
   down at her sagging
breast—that once caused men to
drool like rabid dogs.

Her walk once
   stalked
   libido
   on a hot summer day.

Now time has caught up with her…
And like the decaying statue that no one looks at

anymore.

She often walks alone.

Accepting only a handful of cheers from the
old masturbation crowd.

Her eyes have bags.
Her ass waddles.
The
   fade has arrived.
 

Another Round
by xavier le fou, encinitas, ca

“I’m not much for head games,”
he testifies.
“But I sure miss the feeling of
young Skin.”

   Another round.

Another mid-life/husband/father
Tipping heavy,
Recanting silently his warrior youth,
Addressing bartendars by name
Smiling just a bit too widely at the waitresses.

   Another round.

“What I’d give to go back...
For just a bit...
If only I knew then...” trailing off.
A thick crackle & exhale.
Another jingle of hungry ice
Against empty glass.

   Another round.

And I smile
Finish my drink
Drive home too fast
And have sex like a porn star
With a faceless whore.

‘Cuz I still can
   And he terrifies me.
 

one hell of a memory
by J. Michael Niotta, San Diego, CA

i went crazy 1 night.
the car gave & it was an anniversary
but no one was there for me to share it with.
& no one would come either.
& in my room later that night i went crazy.

& suddenly everything stared at me.
it all stared judging like too many eyes
on only 1 thing.

the mirrors stared
& the statues stared,
so i turned them all around.
the labels of every used bottle stared.
& the coffee cup empty stared.

every unframed photo taped to the wall
stared, & then the framed ones
stared too.
& when i took them down
the stains below stared as well.
& the table lighter stared at me erect.
my bookshelves stared,
my vhs tapes stared
so i covered them.

i covered everything
with blankets off the bed.
& then the walls stared
& the ceiling,
so i shut off the lights
& drank everything still wet
in a bottle,
broke a painting against the floor,
laid on the mattress,
& remembered too much.

i always remembered too damn much.
 

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