Untitled Sequence

Simon Perchik Its arms still around her, this dirt clings between what’s left behind and the rain –-its stones stare back can’t make out the fingers nearby easily yours and with each handful something that is not her forehead just the over and over nearness you pull closer and with your mouth welcomes this dirt,… More

Simon Perchik, Celestial Recess 3

Simon Perchik While the sun spreading out in the light from your shirt wrung dry, its cuffs rolled back –shores are born this way reaching around, even here its sleeves are still visible and in your eyes that first emptiness in all directions at once :light takes forever now looks for you as if it… More

Simon Perchik, Celestial Recess 2

Simon Perchik You wipe the way the moon once warmed the Earth caressed your arm with shapelessness and the fever left over from some fiery beginning half shoreline, half waves still flaring out staking their claim and memory –inside this path a brain, left behind to deal with the scent smoldering leaves give off –you… More

Simon Perchik, Celestial Recess 1

Simon Perchik Its power comes from this froth –never mind there’s no caldron to make sense, you drink listening to bubbles work a cure are healed when the fountain touches you, smelling from gauze and nursing homes –the old have no choice, they let the faucet run and for a while wait at the sink… More

December 2010

Happy Holidays from Fogged Clarity. We hope you enjoy our final issue of 2010, and thank you for spending another year in the fog with us. Benjamin Evans Executive Editor, Fogged Clarity Table of Contents Fiction Theodore WheelerTheodore Wheeler is an author living in Nebraska. His fiction has been featured or is forthcoming in Best… More

Untitled Suite, 2

Simon Perchik It’s time! the ache side to side and across your forehead the wrinkles split open –the cramp comes into this world as the tightening grip that has your eyes, your cry takes you by the hand the way its shadow falls exhausted, in pain and now two mouths to feed though one is… More

Untitled Suite, 3

Simon Perchik Again this shrub each Spring stirred by the same passion its leaves never forgot –one heart safely dead center the other rash brushes against your shoulder and goes one from there –they sense this bush is pregnant, feed it blooms and the root floats up so the child inside is born in the… More

Untitled Suite, 4

Simon Perchik Water doesn’t help, to bathe you leave the door open unclog the room, let its breeze drain and between the riverbanks a sky no star can climb without falling off in pieces broken apart from emptiness and the endless plunge back into a sea half shadow half some overgrown field that reappears in… More

Untitled Suite, 5

Simon Perchik They have no second thoughts and still your footprints inch by inch, gradually made whole the way this shovel lost its taste for dirt carries in only snowfall leaves its own reason at home for a room that stays close by, becomes those skies one by one, done for, dives on every path… More