On "The Ghost of Frederick Oppenheim" by Brian Baer (2366 words) ***

This story is full of parallels. A narrator who lacks much "pride" in himself works in a museum that lacks much pride in itself--forgotten artworks, a staff free to make things up about the art and artists as it cares to; a narrator who has lost interest in his own painting or in finding a real job--and whose girlfriend has lost interest in him. The parallels act as sort of guide that do well for setting up the ending and the piece's ambiguity. If this man inserts himself into a forgotten world, is he announcing himself or wiping himself out? Read the story here at the Northville Review.

On "Shallow Grave" by Julie Innis (1993 words) ****

Innis's story begins right where you want your short stories to start--at a moment too weird not to be further explained. Imagine a body found in your back yard--a fresh body. What would you do? How would you react? What's nice here is that Innis tells this sad story in quiet terms. The Sunday paper quality of the back story becomes the everyday for the couple who own the house. And we get a view of the couple that says much about who they are, people not so much able to talk to one another any more, and who don't even know exactly how to talk to one another about what just happened to them. Read the story here at the Northville Review.

On "Theories of Gravity" by Patrick Haas, "Courting in the Music Store" by John Grey, and "Cheekbones" by Wendy Pratt ****

Of late, when reading poetry, I've been returning more and more to imagery. Certainly imagery is the basis for many poems, but for a while it seemed as if my own poetic impulses had been focusing on the rhythm of the language itself--or on some kind of emotional connection. Here Haas's descriptions are so strong, however, that they have a kind of emotional tie of their own. I'll never think of eyes quite the same again--or of a dress in the wind. Read the poem here at Caffeine Destiny.

John Gray's poem doesn't deal as much with imagery as an idea, but many an interesting poem does just that. This one made me stop and think. Were I funny, well, it likely wouldn't matter. Why do we pick the inanimate object over the silly stranger? Read the poem here at Northville Review.

The body of contemporary poetry is full of free verse constituents, many of which use images to beautiful effect. "Cheekbones," however, is more formalist, using repeat lines and rhyme in a kind of villanelle (I didn't take the time to go find out which exact form the poem is mimicking, if any at all), and it uses the form to full effect. After all the poem is itself about mimicking in terms of ancestry. Nice to see someone working in a form so rarely used today--or used with such skill. Read the poem here at Snakeskin.