Category: Print Archives

Two Poems by Andrew Cantrell

Heliotrope Where one finds that moody is like a word or like the register in which the sky loosens its grip on the day’s seething or it’s ghostly when you break it down to phrases and lineation sloughed stark and low in the cinema of our accumulating afternoons as they buckle, fold, and wither the…
“Attend the Way,” short fiction by Theodore Wheeler

It’s because he has a train to catch that Rodney leaves his room after suppertime. He puts on dress shoes and his green suit, the one that looks good against his skin. Earlier that afternoon, the big woman next door trimmed his hair. He lives in the Kellogg Rooming House, an old brick building near…
Three Poems by Jeremy Behreandt

A Third Place The bell tower prescribed an auditory space that corresponded to a particular notion of territoriality, one obsessed with mutual acquaintance. The bell reinforced divisions between an inside and an outside, as one might infer from the pejorative use of terms such as l’esprit du clocher. —Alain Corbin, Village Bells as with the…
Two Erasures from As We Know by Amaranth Borsuk & Andy Fitch

*Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. Amaranth Borsuk’s most recent book is Pomegranate Eater (Kore Press, 2016), a collection of poems. Previous books include Handiwork (Slope Editions, 2012), selected by Paul Hoover for the 2011 Slope Editions Poetry Prize; and Tonal Saw (The Song Cave, 2010), a chapbook-length erasure poem. Abra (1913 Press,…
Three Poems by Christopher Kennedy

I Have Approximated Lightning There is the ghost and then the ghost’s shadow. By ghost, I mean memory. By shadow, I mean nothing. Or God. Or feral animals. I could mean father or mother, but I have decided that ghosts are preferable to parents, that feral animals are preferable to absent gods. I grin to…
Three Poems by Christina Olson

Citing Budgetary Concerns, the Hurricane Name Retirement Center Closes Its Doors Listen: they’ve closed the hurricane name retirement center. They cited Medicare, increased life spans—but really, everything changed after Katrina checked in. When she blew through the halls, water sprung from the ceilings. When she sprawled on the couch for Wheel of Fortune, everyone evacuated.…
Fiction: “Driving Range” by John Scaggs

Like most of the men in the Wetherall family, Virgil had lost a finger or three over the years. The middle finger of his right hand had been taken by the timing belt of a 1973 Chevy Chevelle—had ripped it out at the root like an onion from the soil. On his left hand, he’d…
Two Poems by Conor Bracken

Running After Years My gait’s a mistake my feet keep making.Allow me to introduce myself: an unbridled trot.A hotel quietly on fire and the guestsasleep, dreaming of cleaner sheets.Of forgetting their phone chargersand overtipping the chambermaidsfor messes of deferred responsibility.My lungs inveigh their circuitry with air.What unhappiness propels the sunto punish everything with shadows?I once…
“Both the Substance and the Evidence,” a short story by Elise Burke

On the Sundays Harlow convinced me go to church, I never really listened to the sermon. But certain phrases stuck out. Maybe the pastor made sense of it all but I was caught up staring at Dot across the congregation as he held his jittery wife’s hand. Her legs bounced around nervously like God was…