Public Republic

Dimana Ivanova Photo: LaPrimaDonna “And I saw a New sky and a New land, which were governed by truth!” “Revelation” by Ioan Bogoslov She called from America and said: “I conceived my child alone!” From the air, still wet in space, caught by the ocean’s breath, the wind through which you sent me kisses, songs, […]

Barry George Brian Russell’s Meeting Dad is a memoir of his efforts to reconcile with his natural father. The story unfolds with a sense of urgency and anticipation. Russell is a fourteen-year-old living in Buffalo; Bob Jaycox is a salesman now living in San Juan, Puerto Rico, with his second wife and family. In the […]

Dean Crawford Photo: b1gw1ght The first time I visit my father’s grave, I apologize to him for not being a better son. He apologizes to me for not being a better father. I have a difficult time growing up. My father tells me who I should be or who I could be, but he isn’t […]

Marilyn Kallet Photo: Choufi/// Today the Garonne flows greener than the poplars, more limber, sky is smoke pierced with light, gulls make dazzling punctuation marks like childhood on Jones Beach.

Chris Mattingly Photo: thebusybrain By14, I had exceeded the accolades Of Satchel Paige, Nolan Ryan & Dizzy Dean combined. I had a pitch Like a ball dropping Off a table into a hole In the bat. & I threw so hard Folks heard the catcher’s mitt pop 100 miles away.

Roza Boyanova Photo: lepiaf.geo           in my son’s bed. An afternoon nap in my father’s worn smooth sandals I walk      on the keys           of wonderment. Translated from Bulgarian by Valentin Krustev

Matthew Vetter Photo: scottfeldstein Quite suddenly, it is autumn. The leaves of the maple fall like asterisks, mere footnotes to the pages of our days here.

Matthew Vetter Photo: littledan77 It is easy to find you, because you want to be found. You hide in the same place every time:

Lauren Shows Photo: peasap Sadness, it is said, is a kind motivator, and happiness its languid sibling. Sadness pushes you from your lonely chair at night, to wander halls, to run hands along walls, to make phone calls. To arrange and rearrange stacks of books. To write books of your own. Happiness keeps you in […]

Barbara Sabol Photo: Auntie P I found them afterwards, clearing out her dresser drawers. Folded, still in tissue that had yellowed but held its crease, nearly sleek as its forgotten contents. Tissue fluttered open as I lifted them like lost parcels unwrapped, fragile.

Brian Russell Photo: mark lorch (The following is an excerpt of a memoir in progress.) The temperature was in the single digits and a fierce wind blew on the afternoon of December 28, 1977 as my brother Dave and I prepared to fly to Puerto Rico. Mom drove us to the airport reminding us of […]