Tag: 43.2

Swap

dawn lonsinger Winner, 2014 Greg Grummer Poetry Award paperSay what you will about the car-choked streets, how no one can walk on the sidewalks because they are covered with cheap goods, but all I...

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I Hear News You’re in Helmand Province

Gabriella R. Tallmadge In your last letter, you said you’re living at Kajaki Dam, where the Helmand River is a muscular sash. Mostly, you see sandbags in the windows and watch the thin shoulders of...

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How Woman Inherits the Earth

Gabriella R. Tallmadge Come some blood, some gristle. Let myself be unfurled, red tongue rolled out, wine-thick, a wave. Speak myself into existence. Open wide the cage inside me, survey my boning,...

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Pie Girl

Steph Kilen Winner, 2014 Fiction Award Must be a little over a year now I’ve been in the basement. Just me and the Swede, or whatever he is, I’m just assuming. He doesn’t talk. He can hear, but...

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Prayer for Object of Obsession

Leslie Marie Aguilar paper Lord, forgive me. I’ve done it again. I killed my father. You see, this time it was a helicopter blade. It just came down & around his head. There wasn’t much...

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The Survival of What Remains

Michael Lee In the desert, the heat itself is a thief and steals rain from the body. The stone, red as a bloodshot eye. The dawn opens like a hinge. A single raven bows from a fence post again and...

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Daddy T & The Whole Nine Yards

Jade Benoit I burned the wedding flowers & they became sea urchins. A tomboy gone electric with dishes pecked in tiny loose spines thrown out to the wolves. Something feels Daddy T says...

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Open Water

Julie Marie Wade  I could never be casual about sharks or sex.  It isn’t in me—the one-night stand, or the one-day scuba expedition in Nassau. I read that humans floating near the ocean’s...

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Oak Mask

Brandon Amico The tree grew through and around my chest. I was here; bones taking on rain, taking on sap and dirt and today, an axe. Yesterday and all days before, a spooling yarn of night—today,...

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Disorder

Michelle Lin My mother wanted me to swallow spoons whole for a wind chime in my chest. God, I hated them. Those immovable mountains, electrified. Their terrible shine. Hard bit. Metal tongue.  ...

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