Tag: 53.1

Acorns in the City

Gregory Calabro after Marianne Moore   drop from treetops          onto the harsh sidewalk in turn—                      tens,                     ...

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The Pistol & the Pack

Ginger Ayla He was a two-pack-a-day smoker, on bad days three, and once on a smoke break explained    how he first discovered cigarettes   when he was 10, with his friend, sticking a clothes...

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On Rotting

Keene Short Halfway up the hill, I smell it before I see it, before I hear the wasps and flies. Paint-stain fresh, mildew wine, an aftertaste of cherry bile. The smell pools where the path arcs and...

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On Prayer

Joy David God could kill you and blame it on a bear. Being taught as I was about investing   exclusively in car stocks, I was never awake to the possibility of heaven cleaning its teeth.   Faith...

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I Don’t Want Me Either

Carly Alaimo Morning   Baby boosts herself up to stand using couch. Can now steal Big Girl’s puzzle. Big Girl brings down board over Baby’s head. To keep from screaming, Mommy recites the script...

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Little Girl, What Preparations Are You Making for Eternal Life?

Crystal Cox Since you asked, I’m answering with alien abduction stories, period underpants, midday séances under a tree, hoarding those bathroom towels with the fancy stitching, a few cans of...

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The Bayou

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...

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Scar

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...

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The Loquacious Cowboy Gets Abducted by the Laconic Aliens

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...

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Date Night

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...

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