The Bookends Review

Small town Mississippi, way deep down, stuck
Like the roots of a garden weed that won’t let go
Bound to it’s native hold

Holding on to the one thing we know

Racism they call it
We have to choose a side
We really seem to want to

Watching the other kind celebrate
Who revels like that?

We would never do such a thing
We wear a nicer hat… ...continue reading

I am vacant-
a screaming churning chasm
of possibility
both malicious and marvelous.
My mind is an empty chalkboard
with hastily erased marks,
vanished to make room
for the teachings
of my next glossator.

I will be
your Athenian and
your Spartan,
your Madonna
and your Whore.
At a single word,
I would lick
your wounds (an ever
subservient nurse)
and climb into bed
with you after (debase
me however, so long as
you say it is my purpose).… ...continue reading

The parking lot was empty. It usually was when I got here. I smoked a cigarette until the rest of the guys arrived. My headlights lit up the marsh.

“Hey man, quit sitting around. Frank said the last guy to the dock has to wash down the boat today.”

“Good morning to you too, Danny. And it looks like we might be too late to avoid that.” “Damn it! This is like my fourth day in a row! Come on, get out of your damn truck.”

“Stop yelling. It’s too early.” I hopped out of my truck and threw my cigarette on the pavement.

“Hey you dropped … Woah academic probation?” I snatched the paper out of Danny’s hand. Balled it up. And tossed it into the open window of my truck.… ...continue reading

Last week, I went to the supermarket and saw
her eyes etched into the tomatoes.
My mother whispered,
she’s pretty if that’s your type,
but everything beautiful eventually turns to dust
Like wilting lettuce.
and I think about the time I told my husband
to get red onions and he came back with white,
as though color were only a suggestion,
as though wanting could be mistranslated.

– Amber Moss… ...continue reading

After the toil of the hot day
from dawn till evening,
in the ritual fasting of the holy month,
as the weary afternoon withers,
like a light evening shower
You come to me, Aadila.
Like breathing, the holy breaking
of fast at sundown after the evening prayers.
You come to me as the sweet
soul-nourishing food.

O like milk and dates,
and the desert’s choicest fruit,
You fill me with love, Aadila,
You fill me with the sweetness of a prayer.

– Aadila Yasmin M & Ananthan K P

Note: This piece was previously published as “Aadila at Sundown” by Rowayat.… ...continue reading

“Wen’s father… was hit by a car,” Sheng’s voice came through the phone, taut like a stretched wire. “He’s dead.”

Yao got the call close to eleven at night. He’d just returned that afternoon to his home in a small town in south China. His son, Ming, had broken his arm playing basketball, and Yao had come to check on him. But before he could catch his breath, something had happened back in the village.

“I just went to the scene with Wen,” Sheng’s voice was faster than usual, breath ragged between words. “It happened less than a hundred meters from the village entrance. Someone hit him and fled. After that, cars kept passing… too dark to see. His body was crushed beyond recognition. What do we do?”… ...continue reading

After decades of coaching, mentoring, and quietly shaping the lives of hundreds of student-athletes, Terry Moss wasn’t one to seek the spotlight. But when Placer High School inducted him into its Hall of Fame, even he couldn’t avoid a bit of celebration. The award was stunning—a towering crystal obelisk, nearly a foot tall, precision-cut and laser-etched with his name, the years he served, and the words:

“For a Legacy that Endures.”

It sparkled under the gymnasium lights like a prism, sending tiny rainbows across the polished hardwood floor. When he accepted it, Terry said only a few words—gracious, humble as always—before giving the crowd his signature half-smile and a quiet, heartfelt “thank you.”

Back home, he set the crystal award on the corner of his oak desk, right in the front room near the big south-facing window.… ...continue reading