THE CROWD ISN'T BOOING—THEY'RE SCREAMING "LOOOOOOOOU"

by Flavian Mark Lupinetti

Good idea, Sweet Lou. 

No need to nuke the moon. 

Just… scooch it over a little. 

Like you said, make it travel 

in a slightly bigger circle. 

Or a slightly smaller one, 

whatever, let the Forest Service 

guys figure it out. 

Oh, I know you know it’s an ellipse. 

Just… adjust it. 

The foresters have the know-how, 

not to mention a whole lot of 

picks and shovels, right? 

Sure, you could ask NASA 

to do the job with rockets. 

But I see what you’re after. 

Change the moon’s orbit, 

but do it in an artisanal way. 

Flavian Mark Lupinetti, a writer and cardiac surgeon, received his MFA from the Vermont College of Fine Arts.  His fiction and poetry have appeared in About Place, Barrelhouse, Bellevue Literary Review, Beltway Poetry Review, Briar Cliff Review, Cutthroat, The Examined Life, Neon, PROEM, Weber—The Contemporary West, and ZYZZYVA. 

THE FATHER IN SUMMER PLAINETH FOR HIS SON

by Cally Conan-Davies






O western fire
Take this day back
Reverse the truck
Unburn the wreck.
The fire fighters
Of the forest service
Hell-bent to save us,
Rain down on them,
Drown every forest plant.
Then bring him home,
Because for every day to come
I can't.


Cally Conan-Davies hails from Tasmania. Her poems can be found in periodicals such as The Hudson Review, Subtropics, Poetry, Quadrant, The New Criterion, The Virginia Quarterly Review, The Sewanee Review, The Southwest Review, The Dark Horse,  Harvard Review and various online journals.