Straitjackets Magazine

Select a bird fresh, not frozen Carry it home while whistling a merry time

As a therapist, I listened to words day after day-how they are used, abused or totally fabricated. They put themselves together into a story

"Whether he's guilty or not, I'm leaving"

"Hurry this up, Doc. When he wakes up and sees where he is, he'll be meaner than a cat who fell down a two-holer."

I made a Japanese lantern with fabric of multiple dyes

But I couldn't forget the beggar Dressed in ragged tattered clothes

The last night in Okinawa, we sat cross-legged on the floor of the izakaya.

Why was I doing this; did I really want another relationship?

Come away with me, my love

I layered my black jacket, the one with snowmen on the front, over a wool sweater, and headed outdoors.

Fall 2018

EDITORIAL

It was our first night in America.

I felt a bead and heard the patter strike against my cheek

I'm going to cream you, Jake!

Below our small plane, snow blanketed Kodiak Island. We'd fished these waters in rain, but never snow. "Do the kings know it's time to run?"

The writer's group, seated around the table, listened to the soprano sing her story.

We stood at the top of the cliff where, during the battle, Okinawans had been forced to jump to their deaths

As I neared home, the Golden Arches lit the sky. Wouldn't hot chocolate taste good before I turned in for the night?

I drill down to a single blade My mind is open I sense the green