Volume 28, Number 2

You Clamoring Empire

speak softly; the Coca-Cola kids are trying to catch their breath in the other room as wide eyed mothers mask trailing lines of bargain mascara with wavering hands that clutch heirloom cloths; no less fragile than the wilting dream furnished in discount creature comforts. Many a time now pockets playing catch-up have been awakened in a bankrupt fit. The American Dream-scape dissolves in many hands scraping loose even bronze coins from emptying pockets used to scraps. In the reach of budgeted utilities, enduring breaths stir into strained sighs, tending the talons wound troubling the claimed and cordoned countryside between two coasts, a muffled unanimous gash between skin & tendon, truth & illusion, purgatory & liberty.

—Ethan Phibbs