#16, 2019

Here at last is issue #16, the only issue of Word Fountain published in 2019! The magazine is on a temporary hiatus. Hopefully, we’ll be able to open doors for submissions again in the near future. Please click here to view the PDF version.

To Order Your Print Copy

To have a copy shipped to you, please follow this link to our library’s donation page. We ask for just a $5 to $10 donation and we’ll ship one to you anywhere within the continental United States. Just mention, along with your address, in the notes section that the donation is for a current copy of Word Fountain. Thank you!

You can also ask for past issues while they last.

If you prefer, send a check payable to the Osterhout Free Library, and request issues of Word Fountain, by mailing to:

Osterhout Free Library
71 South Franklin Street
Wilkes-Barre, PA 18701

Or stop by the Osterhout Free Library if you are in NEPA and pick up your copy for free!

Word Fountain, Listed and Reviewed

The editors are happy to announce that Word Fountain has appeared on this week’s list of new arrivals in the Magazine Stand at the superb writers’ resource New Pages. And we are thrilled to share with you a lovely and thoughtful review of our current issue by New Pages editor Katy Haas. Read the whole review here. We were first listed last year on New PagesBig List of Literary Magazines, so we’re delighted to have our Spring•Summer 2017 issue Continue reading “Word Fountain, Listed and Reviewed”

Brian Dean Powers, Summer 2016

My Voice
Brian Dean Powers

I always sound hoarse.
Like a radio half-tuned to the station.
It’s hard to make myself heard.

I repeat myself often, every day.
It’s hard to make myself heard.
That’s the voice I have.

I can’t converse in noisy places.
Don’t ask me to speak to a group.
I’d rather not talk at all.

It’s hard to make myself heard.
There’s a furrow in my vocal folds.
There’s a flaw that can’t be fixed.

You might not hear my hello.
What can I say?
That’s the voice I have. Continue reading “Brian Dean Powers, Summer 2016”

Brian Fanelli, Summer 2016

Two Poems

Wandering South Street with You
Brian Fanelli

The day will be fleeting,
so I want to photograph you
near neon lights, storefront mannequins
in pink corsets and red fishnets,
your hair tucked under a knit hat,
some brown strands visible behind your ears.
I want to photograph all of you—
your chipped gold nail polish,
black stockings hugging your thighs,
white smudges of salt on your boots,
the plastic mustache you bought
as a gag and wore as we drifted
shop to shop, café to café.
By sunset, our hands will unlink,
and we will drive home,
that two-hour Turnpike haul.
After you drop me off,
I’ll glance back and remember
this day, here on South Street with you,
when your hand curled into mine,
and we pretended Continue reading “Brian Fanelli, Summer 2016”

Raymond Cummings, Summer 2016

Two Poems

Your Ad Will End After This Video
Raymond Cummings

A family of robins cuddles in a nest,
hatchlings nestled, timid, beneath a
mother’s wings. Reflexively, the
smallest bird rolls a white eye as if
watching you dream around him.


Raymond Cummings

Poised and trembling before a starry Alaskan
Plane, I hunt every word. They melt like wax
seals, felled at your bare feet, provocatively arrayed:
a shrine of faith. At a touch the barrette snaps
and long, black hair spills free. Around your
middle you wrap my arms like a sash; dreaming,
we sway in the half-light of a honeymoon suite.

Continue reading “Raymond Cummings, Summer 2016”

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: