Allison Field Bell My grandmother Ethel: I never met her. She died when my mother was twenty-one. Breast cancer that spread to the brain. She raised seven children. She was a naval officer in World...
It’s finally here – our 2023 Spring Contest issue! Thanks to our readers from George Mason University’s MFA and BFA programs in Creative Writing, our intrepid genre editors,...
Bellee Jones-Pierce When your ex-fiancé calls you should be busy. Let him feel the lush delight of interrupting something. Have soapy hands, something risky and pungent...
Stacey Balkun even after the sun lifts & does its best to burn off the fog risen around our clearing it clings to the banks bruised by your hipbones by the hard ground still...
Elizabeth J. Wenger when i think of quentin tarantino i think of revenge dressed in tight yellow leather carving a katana through the script. blood squirts like hershey’s syrup from the screen //...
Rebecca Faulkner I am trying to remember — corners of your newspaper curled in a November breeze, mothballs in your herringbone tweed. Stubborn grief, my coat pulled tight....
Rachel RothenbergWinner of the 2023 Greg Grummer Poetry Prize Somerset County, Pennsylvania Half a cow is disappeared from the farm in Berlin, a two-ton Holstein, it makes the paper. Gone the...
