Dashboard Horus: A Bird's Eye View of the Universe

Diana Rosen writes poems, essays & flash (nonfiction & fiction, but she won't tell you which is made up and which might very well be real.)  She lives and writes in the land of stars, Los Angeles, where her backyard is the country’s largest urban green space, Griffith Park, whose mammoth observatory telescope can show you the real sparklers. Her work appears in journals published in the U.S., Canada, Australia, India & the U.K. To read more of her work, please visit www.authory.com/dianarosen Remember That Time in LA? Remember when Johnny Mathis greeted me like a long-lost friend at a Hollywood party chattering away for a few minutes before he saw someone else he thought he knew? It made me think of him entertaining at The Twin Coaches, that Pittsburgh-area nightclub, my first grown-up venue, seated so close to the stage I can tell you every detail of his black patent leather shoes, how his nostrils flared out when he hit the high notes, how he threw his head back, stre...

  Disappearance Of An Impractical Nature The Dingle was the kind of place you would stop to take a leak, or disrespectfully throw a used mattress into its narrow, uneven ravine. The dog walkers gave it a wide birth. A green chain linked fence and whatever the season, wet dirt road was its more interesting southern border. Most chose the disappointing interstate. People tend to look twice at a meandering, naked old lady. Confirmation peaked with the number of calls. She was heading south intent on some purpose, feet black or bloody, muddied, yet still a dusty rose. Randle's farm was displaced somewhere near here. Apple orchards, trees with gnarley branches never boringly straight but contorted, personalized by their lack of constraint. Two Police cars, three youngish officers serious in the heat searched for an hour in this equals place. No wanderer found no mother, daughter, sister, no one even to compensate. © Colin James

  The Dashboard Horus Pushcart Prize nominees are: Lynne Bronstein “ Getting Off That Train ”(prose) Luis Cuahtemoc Berriozabel's "Tiny Houses " (poem) Colin James's "Green Eyes" (poem)  Strider Marcus Jones's " Fading Sphinx" (poem) Cynthia Linville's "Joshua Tree National Park" (poem) Florence Weinberger's "The Journey From Scratch" (poem) Good luck to all the nominees, and congratulations!

  Los Angeles poet Rick Lupert is a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee. He created PoetrySuperHighway.com and hosted the Cobalt Cafe reading for almost 21 years (which lives on as a virtual series). His 29 collections of poetry include “God Wrestler” and “High Moose Alert.” He edited the anthologies  “A Poet’s Siddur”, “A Poet’s Haggadah”,“The Night Goes on All Night.” and “Ekphrastia Gone Wild.” Rick works as a music teacher and graphic designer. He writes a weekly Jewish poetry column for jewishjournal.com and can also be found online at jewishpoetry.net . He’s fond of his wife, their son, and cats. A Whole Day Has Gone By  A whole evening has gone by and we’ve found more ways to put food inside of us. I thought we were running out of room but the miracle of vacation stomachs is here. Addie’s ankle may or may not be injured and we’re hoping she doesn’t have to be airlifted to Miami. All of our previous cruise injury experience involves someone being airlifted t...

  Lynne Bronstein is the author of Nasty Girls (Four Feathers Press) and four other books of poetry. She has been published in magazines ranging from Playgirl to Chiron Review , from Lummox to anthologies in England, Ireland, Israel, Canada, and India. Her short fiction has appeared in magazines and anthologies and has been read on National Public Radio. She also writes a column on Facebook and Substack called Show Biz Cats. Safety Exit You’re not going to believe this story. I am telling you that right now. I have been living it and I still can’t believe it. When we dream, our dreams seem real, so anything that happens that is not possible in real life seems like a kind of breakthrough. I have experienced this breakthrough and yet I pinch myself and I am indeed in the real world. I can’t offer any scientific explanation for why it is happening to me. Maybe there is something about computer screens, a special aura, or maybe there is an ability within some of us, a latent magic tha...