Straitjackets Magazine

Spring 2023

Favorite is a subjective term. My favorites change with my mood and the weather. One day, my favorite could be lasagna and the next days...

Thanks to the guild An excuse at times To meet other writers And write silly rhymes

Snow-covered ground thaws

No matter that I fret and strain, The golden words have fled my brain.

web-footed monks on pondlily altars sit

This is where I find you, in the morning air

My husband, the First Oh, he was the worst

She was a loner, often standing in a corner by herself instead of mingling with the herd.

The experience of travel is more than being there

When I was just a figurine I’d dream I’d be the Garden Queen

The boat slammed deep inside one giant wave, then exploded to the top of the next one.

What kind of breadcrumbs would you like to leave for your children

Like in film noir, a chic woman in chic sunglasses

The mare continues to two-step, A swish. A sashay

Galloping, galloping everywhere, Making a racetrack out of mid-air.

… there is neither sweet nor sour To tempt me now. Only daily bread.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary until a gunmetal gray limo pulls to a stop directly in front of him