Category: Print Archives
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From Vol. 9: “Invasion of the Dad” by Nicholas Grider
Invasion of the Dad The dad arrived, as dads are known to do, in a large red SUV that was partly covered in mud and made a confident exit from the vehicle, stepping down from the driver’s seat onto the blacktop in dark brown shoes dwelling somewhere between “sensible” and “noticeably expensive,” and the dad…
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From Vol. 9: “Dear Editor Who Sent Me a Rejection Letter on Christmas, or Essay That Ends in a Fugue” by Sean Thomas Dougherty
Dear Editor Who Sent Me a Rejection Letter on Christmas, or Essay That Ends in a Fugue At first I was like for real, man. Really? But then I immediately thought of my coworker Wayne, whose wife died a few years ago near Christmas, and what dismal days the holidays are for him, each colored…
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From Vol. 9: “A Miniature Tale of Motherhood,” a short story by Oliver Zarandi
My children are cruel and look like goblins. Every day they take something away from me and I don’t ask for anything in return. I asked them this morning, “What do you want for lunch?” “Your breasts,” they said. So they had them. They suckled my teats, one apiece, and sucked them dry. No more…
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From Vol. 9: Four Poems by Emily Blair
An IUD Is a Silver Bullet That Could Kill Me so I’m not taking recommendations at this time.Instead this body is as this body doessmoke sometimes. I quit and quit quitting. In the dark of a power outage,I live alone and lie awake in the silence of a thousand people panickinginside our little homes, 5…
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Two Poems from The Future: Jessica Morey-Collins
The Day We Learned Most of us immediately pulled off our shoes and popped our shirt-buttons, released the thunder of our hearts to quarrel with the administration. The teenagers who found it had beenup to teenage no-good—pushingeach other in a stolen shopping cart,gulping begged beer and whoopingthrough the sidewalked night. Theymoved from the orderly center…
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Three Poems from The Future: Caely McHale
Mona Lisa My hands are the last human thing about me.I keep my fingernails pink.I arrange them soft like the Mona Lisa. I imagine delivering a baby, scaled and cold.Scoop the mucus from his throat!My hands are the last human thing about me. My brother’s hands have gone to shit,Dark and spotted from a magnified…
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Two Poems from Vol. 10 by Michael Russell
i’ve never seen the ocean nightly, i dream itas open sore.my entire self, plummeting.an infection. the moon,scimitarof borrowed lightcutsinto the bruise— cerulean-wound,blood-saltmouthfuls. i am drowning in an inhumangalaxy. my lungs,unfit,this world—breathless. i’m not a fish.i hate to swim,this body—finless & withoutshark. my great white hearttornlike a scissored fin. love chums the waterwith rogue arms.my best…
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Seafaring Split, 2016 poetry chapbooks by Jessica Q. Stark and Kiley McLaughlin
Image: Josh Dorman, “Night Fishing II” Table of Contents \\\Side A///Jessica Q. StarkThe Liminal Parade “Strange Beasts”“Tissue Cultures in Auckland”“Epileptic Release Hounds”“Gizzard Stones”“Re: Pls Fwd All Future Arrangements” 2015 WinnerDouble Take Poetry PrizeSelected by Dorothea Lasky * \\\Side B///Kiley McLaughlinACTION PRAISE PRAISE “Action”“And Praise and Praise” 2015 Runner Up Double Take Poetry…
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Shirts or Skins, a 2014 poetry chapbook by Jim Redmond
Image: Cristina Troufa Winner of the 2014 Heavy Feather Chapbook AwardJudge Noah Eli Gordon, author of The Word Kingdom in the Word Kingdom: “Jim Redmond’s poems are situated between the palm at the end of the mind and the parking lot of a now-gutted Midwestern Denny’s. Like the twisted portraiture of Francis Bacon or…