Amy DeBellis At fourteen, your first kiss is quivering, soap-bubble fragile, broken open by your grandfather’s rough voice: “The hell is this?” Even at seventy he’s powerful, six foot three...
Nancy Mitchell As you grew it grew. A foghorn moaned in a sea of soybeans. Nothing the cop said, to see here. But you stayed and waited until you saw your face— a...
Aaron Sandberg Typical American to never shut up, they think. Doesn’t he know they come in peace? They wonder why they picked this part of the planet to survey. His rusty spurs clink against the...
Alex Tretbar We came here for the endangered Chilean sea bass but I can’t even hear myself chew over the smooth jazz. It is appropriately unbearable when I decide to butter my bread instead of...
Brian Russell Roberts Some songs feel exactly like drowning. Especially when they’re sung by a plain-looking miner whose every breath feels like it’s his last, sung as if he was locked in the...
