Category: articles
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Visited
We missed the star charts speckling the eggs of crows – a commission that worked well for the birds, who have no interest in ruling, yet on occasion love to upend our hubris, when we notice the joke is on us, pointed as a well knapped flint. The bees danced the coordinates wiggles and hops…
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Late Summer
Saxton jammed the butt of his rifle into his shoulder and aimed it at the flash of movement. He kept the front sight trained on a slim form as it moved down the steep slope of a hill his pa, long dead from typhoid, had nicknamed Baldy Knob. His higher position on an…
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Shelling
We cruised down the rattling washboard road, as Toni hugged the shaking steering wheel of her dad’s 1950 DeSoto sedan. She swore the faster we went, the less we’d feel the ruts. We parked next to sprawling bearberry shrubs and dragged our hot-soled Pro-Keds through the deep dune sand. She tossed sand high with…
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Labor of Love
Thomas heard the knock on the door right as he was sitting down with a cold beer for a break. He was both annoyed at the sound of the knock and felt a sense of guilt since he had no real excuse to leave the door unanswered. He let out a sigh as…
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you made tea.
to make a cup of tea and think ugh, i’ve built this with my own hands as if creation requires disdain and everything you touch gets burned. peppermint leaves retain their buoyancy. you’re falling down a drainage hole of sorts, drenched and smelling sour. it’s unfair. i apologise for the difficulties,…
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a study in selfishness.
a study in selfishness. a lesson in understanding the reasons behind it. one must first learn the act of dissolving within all that currently limits you the math problem you trace back to your insomnia, the pineapples you cut through but can’t even swallow, another lover trying to escape when you’ve been too tired to…
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A Boy Is A Gun*
*You’re reading about history / the act of reconstructing narratives / without the seminal hold of … To unlock the rest of this poem, join the Circus!
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Interstice
It is not orange season and so the woman at the register charges two dollars extra to hunch over them – swaddle in my arms just a little bit longer There is a man at the park, jogging and does not stop so I cannot pet his dog and the dog and I eye each…
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Art Class
– for Beryl Thomas Mrs. Thomas stood before the class, colored chalk dust flecked across her navy blue blouse. She snipped the folded paper this angle, that, this curve, and straight, and opened it to a T or a B. We made an alphabet louder than we could speak or write, to frame the…
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Reincarnation
—after Wallace Stevens I placed a tattered sonnet in a Mason jar on a low hill in Tennessee, adrift and lost, and waited for rains to wash my frail poem far eastward, tumbling to brook, to stream, river-tossed past roots and slim hulls to wave swells of the sea. By current shape and…
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Bleed Till the Last Drop
He watches her with sorrow. Watches his friend, his confidant, give all that she can, and then let the people she serves tear her open for more. He watches her bleed for her people – their people – as if it doesn’t hurt. As if she’s not giving everything that she is to them and…
