Monthly Archives: May 2015

Joplin, poem by Michael Thompson

Once the war ended, there wasn’t anything else to do except play the horses and hoist a few pints at Tinhorn Flats where the sticky surface of no-pest strips hanging behind the bar are caked with flies Waiting on long … Continue reading

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A Long Row to Hoe, by Meriwether O’Connor

  Old Mr. Worthington showed up at half past ten when he shoulda oughta been there at ten sharp. Miss Candleman was ready for him with a cup of coffee, hers. She walked out, pleasant as pie. Hi, Mr. Worthington. … Continue reading

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Under the De Soto, fiction by Barrett Hathcock

We had a roofing job in Eureka Springs. Stupid name for a town. It’s up in the top corner of Arkansas, almost in Missouri, stuck in this Ozark gulley, every street a downward spiral. There are no grids in Eureka. … Continue reading

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Tipping the Jug*, poem by GC Smith

Rednecks and blackmen old buddies and friends will stand now together with a clay jug of corn they’ll drink to their health and comfort each other with lies and comfort each other with lies They’ll talk of their dogs and … Continue reading

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The Hills are Alive, essay by Anna Lea Jancewicz

Yeah, everybody has a dead grandmother story. They’re not sexy and nobody’s buying. But this story is mine, and it’s not so much about the woman as it is about the place. I’m from a little coal town, McAdoo, in … Continue reading

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Where to Buy Your Weed, fiction by Misty Skaggs

Her trailer was a ripe patch of excess, bloomed conspicuously at the base of a cliff on the edge of a bone dry, Baptist county in East Kentucky. The half-acre around it was littered with faded Mountain Dew cans glinting … Continue reading

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Uncles Charlie Loves You, poem by Misty Skaggs

I remember tired, washed-out women warning us young’uns with his name – “Uncle Charlie’s gonna come, gonna come all the way out here and get you.” I remember we believed it. I remember the good ol’ boys rounding up a … Continue reading

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Lock No. 10, essay by Megan Lewis

Parker and he went out to the lock. He drove fast down dark roads. Roads that remember us still. He parked. Next to the historical marker— I think. We stumbled through a starless night, right down to the water. Right … Continue reading

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A Happy Ending by Murray Dunlap

“How are you doing, Ben?” The camera man crunches down to take advantage of a better upshot. “Well, I’d tell you, but there is a stranger in my house who seems to be filming us,” I say with sincere astonishment. … Continue reading

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