Author Archives: Rusty

Final Girl on Appalachia

H/t to Pank. Why I Stay Final Girl Three brown tires are on the bank of the river, like shells would be on the beach of another place. This is not that place. It is hard to deny some of the beauty … Con­tinue read­ing

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Moving Mountains Tragedy 2014: Stunning Court Denial of Appalachian Health Crisis

The only thing stun­ning about this is the years-long denial. From Huff­in­g­ton Post's Jeff Big­gers. In a breath­tak­ing but largely over­looked rul­ing this week, a fed­eral judge agreed that the U.S. Army Corps of Engi­neers may dis­re­gard stud­ies on the health impacts of … Con­tinue read­ing

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Oldest European Fort Found in the Appalachians

The remains of the ear­li­est Euro­pean fort in the inte­rior of what is now the United States have been dis­cov­ered by a team of archae­ol­o­gists, pro­vid­ing new insight into the start of the U.S. colo­nial era and the all-too-human rea­sons … Con­tinue read­ing

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An Open Letter to the Baby Deer I Nearly Hit Tonight by Dena Rash Guzman

The mist cold and thick, I had the high beams switched off so the bril­liance wouldn’t chan­nel in and blind me— the switch­back roads wind through the woods past houses built by peo­ple with wag­ons drawn along by beasts with … Con­tinue read­ing

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But Pat Boone Never Lived in Bessemer, essay by Terry Barr

On the night before I entered 7th grade, my across-the-street, 9th grade neigh­bor Joe, while we were enjoy­ing spareribs at our family’s annual Labor Day pic­nic, gave me this advice: “Be care­ful tomor­row. You never know who’s car­ry­ing a switch­blade.” … Con­tinue read­ing

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Texas Never Whispers, by C.L. Bledsoe

The closer it got to Joey’s dad’s birth­day, the more agi­tated he became, and with noth­ing worth­while to do when he wasn’t at work – which was less and less often since Jerry had been cut­ting his hours – he … Con­tinue read­ing

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Toluene, by Max Sheridan

This guy I knew, he thought he could make his shit high stick­ing toluene up his ass. Some peo­ple know more than one guy like that. I fig­ure you talk to enough of them you’ll hear just about any­thing twice. You … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Last Summer, by Kelly Ford

My friends would head to the pool that day. They’d show off their new boobs in their new biki­nis. Point out which boys they wanted to date. Make plans with­out me for our upcom­ing sopho­more year. Angela paused and spun her … Con­tinue read­ing

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Flight, by Mitchell Grabois

  Once you have tasted flight, said Leonardo you will for­ever walk with your eyes turned sky­ward   and when you are four­teen and ini­ti­ated into sex by a thirty-two year old woman who lives in your par­ents’ hip­pie com­mune you will for­ever … Con­tinue read­ing

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Poems by Marian Veverka

After the Vic­tims were Buried Every­one went back to the farm­house where Friends and wives of neigh­bors had set out food. At first there was just the sounds of chew­ing and Swal­low­ing and maybe a child pip­ing up a few … Con­tinue read­ing

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