Poems, short stories, long stories, plays, essays and articles.


by Nancy Hartness

My cousins are boys chasing around. 

Chasing around

Outside this house where inside there’s

More food than Thanksgiving and nobody

Tells you what you have to eat.

I grab chips and run.The ground’s almost frozen.

I eat bread and run. I eat cake and run.

I eat more chips and run.

If I eat any more, if I run any more, I’ll explode.

I run.

“A Child’s Prayer to the Patron Saint of Television”

by Nancy Hartness

Dear Saint Clare,
Thank you for Mister Philo Farnsworth                                                                              Omnia Possum-IMG_1082
Who invented T.V.
I hope he’s not too weird in Heaven.

Thank you for The Mickey Mouse Club.
Momma banished us along with the T.V. from
The living room where our dancing feet
Wore out the carpet. She covered up the bald spot.

Thank you that I, of all the kids, knew
Best where to whack the cabinet and
Command the picture to return.

Thank you for Howdy Doody,
Phineas T. Bluster,
Flub-a-Dub and
Clarabell, the Holy Clown, who
Never spoke but once.

Thank you for the Westerns,
Soap Operas and
Jack Paar.
Thank you for the Saturday Afternoon Movie.

And especially most of all,
Mother Clare,
Thank you for Samuel H. Kress
Who gave so much before
He died in 1955.

This poem was Nancy’s entry in The Kress Project at the Georgia Museum of Art, where it received an honorable mention.



by Charlie Hartness

 When my mother met my father

it was at the Stardust Ballroom in Macon, Georgia                                                                         

He came over on the bus from Camp Wheeler

and she walked to the ballroom from her house

wearing a gardenia corsage

 There were a lot of good looking soldiers there

she said

and all of them were tidy in that soldierly way

but your father

oh my goodness

his trousers had those knife edge creases

like the bows of twin destroyers

cutting through the water

faster than anyone could ever swim away.