Monthly Archives: June 2012

Sestina for a Powder, poetry by Joshua Michael Stewart

She’s lis­ten­ing to the clock—the heart­beat that mocks the blood that pumps inside this house. She clicks her tongue in time with the sound that knocks against walls, and mim­ics heel-to-toe boots on red­wood floors. There’re knick­knacks to dust and … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Pyote, fiction by Shannon Hardwick

Imag­ine I am a body on the side of the road, maybe a girl in a skirt and a shirt that’s torn, or a boy with a brief­case and mud­dy boots. Imag­ine I am you. You’ve tak­en too long to … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Loveville, fiction by Timothy Gager

Loveville is a free-wheel­ing town you enter with­out a seat­belt at 100 miles per hour down the Main Street; going so fast, a clock can’t tick. When you spin off the road you are thrown onto the grass near a … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Benediction, novel excerpt from Charles Dodd White

Chap­ter 1 Lava­da rose to the iron dark and stepped bare­foot across the cab­in floor, paus­ing and plac­ing her hand to the door to test the wind's new ache. To know it as her own. Touch told her she would … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Poems by Shannon Hardwick

BARTENDER-LONELY How can you stand so many peo­ple, I ask, drunk. Shirts dirty them­selves for the wash­ing, wait­ing for a woman’s hands, he said, I’d steal their laugh­ter, pawn it for a hand­gun just to piss some­one off. I’d drink … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Dennis Mahagin's FARE now available!

  Check it out here.

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Opening Day, fiction by Nathan Graziano

The fore­cast is call­ing for rain on Open­ing Day—not show­ers, but a holy-shit-the-sky-is-pis­s­ing April down­pour. He packs his books into the box­es he picked up at the liquor store while his wife stands in the door­way to their bed­room, her … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Puercos Gordos, fiction by Michael Gills

She was a year younger than me and semi­fa­mous.  I’d seen her all through high school, and then on the hood of a white Corvette as Miss Lonoke in the Soy Parade, a dis­tinc­tion that sent her to the Miss … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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I Need Help (CANCELLED AFTER SO MUCH SUPPORT!) THANK YOU!

Finan­cial help, that is. My print­er is suck­ing up print car­tridges like meth. Because of var­i­ous rea­sons, all unavoid­able, I don't have enough mon­ey to buy print­er car­tridges to fin­ish Dennis's chap­book. I need just a few bucks, maybe $25. … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Goodnight, Gramaw, by Misty Skaggs

Every night, at two a.m., I kneel at the altar of her rust-brown reclin­er. After the cred­its roll on past The Big Val­ley, and Miss Bar­bara Stan­wyck has her last, hearty laugh, I fill a plas­tic pan packed home from … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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