Issue 7, Winter/Spring 2009

[This is a microscope, the eyes God kept for Himself.], by S. Jason Fraley

This is a microscope, the eyes God kept for Himself.

When burdened with judgement, clarity is a vital witness.

When magnified, what isn’t written in braille?

You argue that, like old fast food restaurants decorated orange and brown, labyrinths must display a gallery of thorns to keep the trapped moving, uncomfortable.  But what about drought, an over-zealous hedge trimmer?  The whole industry is too easily threatened.  Now fingerprints . . .

A charcoal sketch, a page of ink-stained paper demonstrates the flaw with fingerprints:  finding a way in.

The diagnosis is cancer.  Or mud stain.  This washcloth has the answer, though the cotton muffles the subtle music of your body.