Monday, December 23, 2013


We apologize that we have been delayed in working on the January issue, but it will be up sometime in January. We cannot guarantee response times, however.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

"Sonnet" October 2013 Issue Released!

I am very pleased to announce that our third quarterly issue is officially released!
There are two ways to view the content for this issue:
All of the stories and poems have been published as individual entries on this site. To view all of them, either scroll down through our feed, follow the links on the bottom of this page, or click on the "October 2013" tag.
If you prefer, the magazine has also been uploaded to Google Drive available to view and download. Simply follow this link, or click the tab at the top of the screen that reads "October 2013." The downloadable magazine also includes a short introduction by myself.

There may still be some formatting glitches to be worked out over the next couple days. If you spot a problem, please send an email to including a link to the page with a problem, if appropriate. Be sure to put "LAA" in the subject line somewhere so our spam filters don't catch you.

 If you would like to view the magazine on an e-reader, you can download it through Google Drive entirely for free. I do not have an e-reader myself, so I'm not sure exactly how to accomplish this. If you have any questions of that nature, please direct them to the manufacturer of your e-reader.

Below is a listing of all the pieces featured in this issue

Love Sonnet by Sara Callor
Anti-Love Sonnet by Sara Callor
"They that have power to hurt and will do none" by Erik Noonan
Smiling Starlet (Marilyn) by James K. Blaylock
Wild Blazing Fires (Forgotten Galaxies) by James K. Blaylock
Shudder to Apocalypse by Brett Stout
The Gypsy Padlock Doctrine by Brett Stout
Liebestod by Robert Wexelblatt
I Am Not a Brick by A.J. Huffman
In the Scent of Dreams by A.J. Huffman

Letter to Mark by Carol Smallwood
Weighting Game by Terry Barr
An Autumn Twice Fell by Jarrett Fontaine
The History of the World by Kim Farleigh
Penitent by Kelly Kraus


by Kelly Kraus

The desert had nearly consumed him last night. He’d fled almost three days ago. With him he’d only brought a half jug of water and a stale loaf of bread. Both were gone within a day. His mouth was arid and he was becoming increasingly weary. If he didn’t get food and water soon, he could die out here. And no one would know. Or care.
Regardless of his predicament, returning to the city was necessary. Hunger pangs cramped his stomach. As a group of hares darted across his path, he pondered chasing them. They’d make a modest meal. He lacked the strength for a pursuit of the animals. Famished, he trudged on.
The trek back to the city was punishing. Mountainous terrain provided refuge from potential prying eyes. While there were many valleys that made walking easier, the cliffs were steeper than the valleys were shallow. Sharp declines scattered the area. All the ravines he came upon were dry from the scorching heat. Water was a scarcity in this area.

The History of the World

by Kim Farleigh

Suburb A’s inhabitants considered themselves superior to suburb B’s, the A’s mockingly imitating the B’s accents, although their accents were almost identical.
Expletives not employed in suburb A, except to mock the B’s, were used by the B’s, demonstrating the latter’s “unquestionable brutality.” Waggish A’s used these terms to belittle the B’s; better, however, to avoid these expressions whose non-employment indicated an exquisite sensibility beyond the reach of most B’s.
The A’s constantly needed to prove their superiority so that when litter “polluted” suburb A’s clean streets, Suburb A’s leading newspaper, The Erudite Browser, claimed: “Dark-Age Suburb B louts committed litter heresy against decency”, although how they knew this wasn’t explained, research superfluous when poetic conclusions cause collective indignation, the mellifluous cadences of articulate sniping singing with the enrapturing vibrancy of truth.

An Autumn Twice Fell

by Jarrett Fontaine

Rain pattered against my window. Through the stormy darkness I could hear my daughter screaming and crying out for me again.
Daddy, I miss you.
A crack of thunder quickly followed. The midnight air was electric as I rose out of bed, being careful not to wake up my wife.
Help me Dad!
I stumbled blindly through the hallway, down the creaky steps. She screamed again.
No matter how many times I visited her grave and begged her to stop, I could always hear her voice.

Weighting Game

by Terry Barr

You’ve lost too much weight! You look…GAUNT!”
The anxiety in my mother’s voice shakes my confidence. It’s amazing the power she exerts over me. How can one remark reduce me to that emotionally stunted boy I thought I had shed years ago?
I walk away from her, retreating to my bedroom bath. I shut the door and breathe deeply. Then I face myself in the mirror, seeking the new me, the slimmer me. The me that I like. But what I see instead is a wasted face with hollow cheeks.
Is there more wrong with me than I know? Despite the disease that I have, that she knows I have, is it my weight that my mother is most focused on? I turn away from the mirror, unable to resolve the discrepancy of our perceived images.

Letter to Mark

by Carol Smallwood

Excerpt from Lily's Odyssey (print novel 2010) published with permission by All Things That Matter Press. Its first chapter was a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award in Best New Writing.  

Dear Mark,
I thought today was Friday but M*A*S*H wasn’t on at 6 so it must be Saturday.
I got a call from State asking me if I could come for an interview! Can’t believe it! I took the earliest interview time slot and made reservation for flying out Monday. They are paying for my ticket. They have tuition remission there.
I shouldn’t tell you but I went through a yellow light in a haze of thinking what to pack and got a $50 ticket. Jenny’s taking me to the airport so she can have the car. Return 8:03 a.m. on the 6th—have layovers both ways unfortunately in Chicago’s O’Hare.
Congratulations on being elected to the Student Government Association! That’s really good news and will look good on your resumes. I was very glad to hear you think your government teacher’s “one cool dude.” Are Ollie North haircuts popular on campus?
I liked your comment about Charlie having a car in the demolition derby “sounded like small town America—fixing something up and paying to smash it.”
Must dye Jenny’s slakes as she must wear them for work but will have to put bleach in the washer to get all the color out first. Sorry to hear you had pink shorts after I did the washing. Jenny’s red shirt must have run. She wanted to see my wedding ring and is wearing it for some reason.
I painted the utility room wall while listening for the mailperson. Maize watched me working with plants and jumped high when I surprised her coming around the corner of the house. It was very humid and it was hard sleeping last night with all the thunder. Maize hide last night and then woke me up by sniffing my nose. She keeps walking in and out or pushing pens off the table like she knows something’s up.
Not that surprised that you’re learning more about Nicolet City than when you were here. I’m glad the police came quickly when you had to call about the patient freaking out.
I’m looking forward to having you come home for Fay’s wedding and will try my new sourdough bread recipe out when you’re home.
Jenny I know misses you. I noticed that she really followed you around when you were home last time. She helped me with my book after prying her out of bed before 10 (after chasing Charlie home 1:30 last night). She does good work and am paying her. She went to see Betsy and probably Charlie will come over tonight. Trying to get another Wisconsin reference book going but is hard because it would mean limited sales so may end up doing a social resources one.
I saw a great big Allied Moving van pull up across the way and it was so long it had a hard time turning the corner. I so wanted it to be mine. The best thing in the mail today was there weren’t any rejects on article or job inquiries.
Be sure and do the best you can because your grades will follow you around no matter where you go.
Love, Mom

In the Scent of Dreams

by A.J. Huffman

I dance on tireless toes, spinning,
a ballerina of wind and ghostly touch.
I am air, light
and [on] point(e).
I am princess of the pink chasm
of inebriated thought. I know nothing
and everything. I see what I feel, what
I inhale. I exhale doubt. I watch it
float to the ceiling dissolve into fog
and shadows. I blink at them with my third
eye, fan them away with invisible butterfly wings.

I Am Not a Brick

by A.J. Huffman

house, but mortar definitely runs
through my veins, much needed
reinforcement against invisible wolves
who blow me down to foundation.
They are confused by my solid
determination to rebuild
myself in a slightly harder shape.
Resigned to this repetition,
I peer through shadowed
fingers of fate, waiting to see
if this time I am enough,
if this time I will hold.


by Robert Wexelblatt

The still bedroom was dimmed by blue drapes.
Though they were outside time it mattered
it should be a November afternoon
when exertion brought its own reward.
He was an expiring salmon expending the
last erg of energy in the sweet water
of his birth; wave on wave buoyed him
then dropped until he plumbed the
matrix of all metaphor, perishing
with limbs of lead into the dusky void—
only to renew the compulsive cycle
of recurrence heralded by Nietzsche,
framed by Klimt, explicated by Freud.

Was it the love of death,
the death of love, or merely one
soul lost in the release of spirit,
the love that feels like death?

Memory shuffles delight up with regret.
When did the Lovedeath turn to the death of
love, the death of love to the love of death?
Was it in the middle of a sentence
or in the silence between breath and breath?