Monthly Archives: November 2016

PALE LEMON FIRE IN A PARTLY CLOUDY AUTUMN, poem by Dennis Mahagin

Near­ly noon, on Thurs­day late Octo­ber, and I see the trees sway­ing with­in a wind that means only busi­ness, no fra­grant breeze here, no idle bur­lesque: mere­ly rote screams, blue note egress from boughs with fore­sight and worse, they bite … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Lady Smith, fiction by Jim Wilsky

The third day on the run, they ditched a stolen pick­up truck in the sprawl­ing park­ing lot and then wait­ed out­side the doors of Nordstrom’s. Less than an hour lat­er, they were turn­ing out of Spring­town Mall in a black … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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The Property of Bug-Eyed Motherfucker, story by Wynne Hungerford

Apache Springs the cross­roads was known as, and for miles around the land was called Apache Springs also. There was a sin­gle saloon at the cross­roads next to a board­ing house with its roof rot­ted from the night­ly urine of … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Three-Man-Operation, poem by Mathews Wade

Papaw’s ranch ain’t so much a ranch but a two man oper­a­tion with his neigh­bor Ter­ry, whose wife is also named Ter­ry, just two men rub­bin pen­nies, joined by fences mend­ed with zip-ties, where strung-out race horse res­cues pop­u­late junked-fields … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Francis Alexander Finch, poem by Carl Boon

Fran­cis Alexan­der Finch tilts his plas­tic din­ner plate against the hard light of Hazel­ton Prison, rea­son­ing the details of his rape case and lim­it­ing the move­ment of a sin­gle black ant. His moth­er, JoAnne Daphne Finch, has exit­ed the grounds … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Pavement, poem by Heather Sullivan

We walked to the bak­ery on the cor­ner, you and I hand in hand. I’d promised you a cook­ie, and myself a chance to clear my head from the work­day strife. My longer com­mute used to give me time to … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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