Volume 4 Number 2
The corn was ready for harvest when the boy got that guitar he’d been saving for. It wasn’t anything pretty, used with a little hole…
There have been days of mountains and byways, of corn and conifer, and tonight we stumble into Ohio half-drunk on petrol. These roads are clean…
Veronica was scheduled to fly home the next morning but slept through her alarm. She wasn’t ready to leave Wilmington anyway, scared to fly over…
I have impossible memories. Creation. My brother cleaving a snake in the bedroom. I remember both, though I slept. The bedroom is on the second…
I am caught between the paneling and sheetrock in my parents’ bedroom. It has been many days. Well, here time goes unbraiding itself; there’s no…
He is in the galvanized tub tittering over your cardigan. Look; look in; look in the water. There he is. There is the drowned man…
I know at once that I shouldn’t look, but his shirt is off and the paper white of his skin is superimposed with the feeling…
The trains move only at midnight. The deer keep appearing out of timber. In all directions swelling: it is cosmic, in a sense. Coming slowly…
I watch a pigeon fly into a live poultry market on 3rd. Its double doors wide, a maw; the pigeon hovers through its gray excesses,…
When my father slips into compression stockings, I wonder who will perm his new blond hair. I wonder who taught him how to apply lipstick,…