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Will Harris

About the Writer      


            Originally from San Antonio, Texas, Will Harris was born into a military family. After serving two military staff tours in the Middle East, he left the military but returned to live and teach English in the United Arab Emirates for over a decade.  He recently attended the Colrain Poetry Manuscript Conference.

            Will’s writing is forthcoming or has been published in African American Review, Burningwood, Cold Mountain Review, decomP, Eleventh Muse, Existere, Mantis, MELUS, Reunion: The Dallas Review, The Round, Storyscape, Wascana Review, Word Riot, and The Zora Neale Hurston Forum, among others.





joe admits he cannot see much

beyond the aching beauty

            of its lapis and turquoise walls,

            and the ancient marble floors

            so smoothed by the feet of pilgrims

            they see their faces reflected there.


When they hose the blood and sand away,

            a glory still shines forth like the midday.


What joe can understand

is the old man shuffling as fast as his age

            to the mosque wall, to touch the sacred

            with hands and forehead, weeping.

            His tears could be anyone’s—the Jewish elder

            returning to the Wailing Wall,


joe’s father returning to the owned graves

            the Georgia farmer permits his family to visit.



There was just enough room

between the single cinder block

outer wall and the single cinder

block wall of his villa for joe to

extend one arm and fold the

other at the elbow.


He remembered how, at Khobar,

there was a single line of waist-

high concrete barriers, a

high chain-link fence (they

hung netting from it and

practiced golf shots), and

about 15 feet of grass-

mottled yard between fence

and building. A succession of

commanders, and soldiers

who honed their swings.


For the first two weeks he

sleeps in the living room,

behind two additional walls,

with the couch cushions laid

on the floor and the

base flipped over in a

body-long inverted V. That

approach lasts a few nights.


Then it’s sleeping on the

couch a week or so. Next,

long tossing nights with the

outer room lights turned off,

heavy trucks passing or stopping

for long periods each night.


One night he finally lets go,

dreams of the Air Force Academy

blue course, mule deer mingling into

the background of evergreens, and

elk stepping forth in full-antlered

majesty. When he wakes the

next day, he lies a bit

longer in his bed against

the outer wall, promises himself he’ll

buy a Kangaroo golf cart

when he gets back,

you know, the kind that

you can put on autopilot

while you paint the sunset

of the eighth hole, the

mountains and kaleidoscope of

fading grays in your mind.


Three months later, Command gives

him his first chance to

leave the outer wall. He turns

them down for several months,

until he is finally ordered

to a new compound,

off the wall.


Robert Rothman


-- Ambassador To A Distant Kingdom In The North County

-- The Monk's Halo


Leah MacLean-Evans

-- Blood Days Recipe


Paula Bernett


-- Memory Consumed So It Was Never

-- Quill and Brood

Gordon Massman


-- The Master of Nothing

-- My Appassionato

-- Finnegan's Religion

Naomi Ruth Lewinsky


-- To My Brother's Late Dragon Lady

Marie Andree-Auclaire

-- Closer Than One Thinks

Joelle Barron

-- Total Eclipse

-- House Stuff

Claire Matthews

-- My Underwear Drawer Houses the Book of Mormon

Claire Kelly

-- Poem for a Woman I Made Up

Benjamin Hertwig

-- sunday mornings, after Afghanistan

Eugenie Juliet Theall

-- Other than a Paperweight

Will Harris

-- Imam Ali Shrine

-- Kangaroo Wall


Mallory Tater


-- Heat Dream


Liz Johnston


-- Public Transit

Gardner Landry


-- Mayonaise

Benjamin Dugdale

-- Orlando Two Point O: Hashtag Forever Yung

Artwork and Photography

Gord Marci Jr.

-- Typewriter With Note

Allen Forrest


-- The New World Manbike 12 x 9 2016

-- The New World Workers 2 Ink 15 x 11 2016

Kerry Rawlinson

-- Mistry Trees

David Mutnjakovik

-- Let it Begin

Colette Campbell-Moscrop

-- Untitled-Gouache, Graphite, Ink and Watercolour on Laid-Textured Paper

-- Nope-Gouache, Graphite, Ink and Watercolour on Found Paper

-- Horrible Together, Full Circle-Ink on Cardboard Paper


Margaret Crawford


-- A Review of Kathleen McCraken's Double Self-Portrait with Mirror: New and Selected Poems (1978-2014)

-- A Review of R. Aviars Utskins' The Hoosier Zebra and other "Poims"

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