46.2 Spring 2017

TIME TO BLEED

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Ander Monson No one talks enough about how Schwarzenegger looks on-screen. Or how his face is lit in every shot: one sees what California did in him to make him governor. In 1987 I would have appointed him God; he’s as close to it as we were going to get to it on the human…

In Flight

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Brenda Miller and Julie Marie Wade   My brother-in-law, who flies planes for a living, tells me that no one can die in the sky. “But people die everywhere,” I protest.  “That’s the thing that amazes me most about death—how versatile it is.” Matt wears his pilot’s uniform, brown and drab, with a glint of…

Tigers for Tamir Rice

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2017 Greg Grummer Poetry Award Winner, Chosen by Monica Youn   Jennifer Givhan My last time in the underworld I followed        a tiger          the book said tigers could be shapeshifters          could be carried to their beds          the hemp of their claws…

Clevelanding

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Betty Rosen   I learned “city” from Cleveland and its drone of heart-rot, clotting-rust hopelessness. I still read in its script of nostalgia. Its bridges crash down into silver water, undertowing language. Its forms are the steel scaffolding within which ideas stir like afterbreaths. I’m always talking about “ideas,” and what I mean is the…

Wake Up Call

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Steven Church   Fort Collins, CO 1999   Where’s the baby? I called out in the dark. Half asleep, I sat up in bed. Where’s the baby? I asked again. I’d been troubled recently by dreams of abandonment and forgetting—vague, formless visions and fragments—the only tangible evidence most nights, a sweat-soaked pillow. No clear images…

Register of Futures: Florida

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Jessica Guzman Alderman   1. The limestone crevasse like stale bread & phosphogypsum butter,                                    one drawn gulp under a power plant— how the mangroves faint into her jaws, butterfly kiss           the aquifer. From planes tourists huzzah Our own moon crater, grip their polyurethane backrests  to follow the fishing boats’ diminishing arabesques, &…

An Enormous Number of Possible Configurations

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Margaret Cipriano   We believed in starting small so we examined ourselves in the light of a hundred different kitchens, and with stunning alacrity, concluded we were just some planetary ache. A working out of particles. What a dreamy trapeze, he says. What ordinary lonelys, I reply. Conversation around knives is like that, one must…

On Words, Like Wanderings

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Jill Talbot and Justin Lawrence Daugherty   i. North Country For a while I lived along the Canadian border. Never crossed it, though it felt like it on snowy nights I’d settle into corner booth of the inn’s wooded lounge. Hockey on a small screen in the corner, men lined up in fleece and flannel…

lIght bird

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Matt Trease   This Light Within Dirt This living grid in midnight dining with tiny bird pickings this trick within thinking   Light Trip Within Bird Cry 1. within this lightning 2. with this iris 3. with this wing (within) Within This Wing   Visiting with crisis in this victim wind Prickly with which night?…

Swallowing Needles

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Melissa Wiley   Closer to Honey There were gold veins on her ceiling. If not gold, amber then, something resembling resin. They once were blue, the same as everyone else’s. Only so many years of sunlight filtering through smoke-stained curtains had altered their color, put light into the ceiling. Veins all the same. Someone hovering,…
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