Tag: 41.2

Issue 41.2, Fall 2012

Greg Grummer Poetry Award Judged by Matthea Harvey Winner Anne Marie Rooney: My year with flowers, unshrinking Runner Up Anne Cecelia Holmes: A Test for Safe Zones Annual Fiction Contest Judged...

Read More

Phoebe Issue 41.2 Fall 2012

Our first ever full online issue in its entirety! Highlights include our 2011 contest winners and runners-up judged by Matthea Harvey (Poetry), David Means (Fiction), and Mary Roach (Nonfiction)....

Read More

[obscenity for the advancement of poetry 7]

Poetry kathryn l. pringle

derision settled into the stone of the place

a tree once living now dying

the practice of killing extended...

Read More

Everyday Whimsy

Visual Art Heather Evans Smith

I want my photographs to tell stories. And I want stories that come from moments of life, like a still from an old movie. Movement and pain and the...

Read More

Sea Change

Nonfiction Priscilla Kinter

Soil and leaves filled the empty human spaces, and always the buzzing of insects. Spider silk and dust and feathers and carapaces accumulated to build...

Read More

Cornish Pasty

Nonfiction Alice Lowe

When Don says, “Wow, she’s good,” I muster up a grudging agreement, but I can taste the bitter wilted greens of envy. I’m already lamenting my lack of...

Read More

Use Your Spoon

On the tips of bare toes, arm stretched so far it hurt, I placed the final red brick. This was the top of my tower. I had more Legos, but I could only reach so high. I stepped back to see what I had...

Read More

How the Lake Saved Me

Nonfiction Rachel Toliver

I used to be a young girl, only 18, who had left the East—where I had neither much sinned nor been much sinned to—but had been often tired, and often...

Read More

Three Hearts

Wilma clutched her empty lunch sack and watched the jellyfish bob and sway out of rhythm with the Andean flute music the aquarium played on Mondays. It was her seventh visit to the jellies exhibit in...

Read More

Ithaca

Sometimes she found herself in a yellow room. She sat by the window or by the table or in a rolling chair. Just a gravel courtyard outside and a strip of brilliant sky. The smell of Lysol and...

Read More