by Naomi Mulvihill | Feb 13, 2014
When I worked in an orphanage a boy came to harvest sugar cane in what he’d worn to work the street at a beach resort. His bunkmates picked up volcanic rock I later learned geologists call scoria—a word whose root gives us slag, drek and excrement. At the...
by Matthew Lippman | Feb 5, 2014
If your wife hates you don’t go out and get another one, it’s probably not your fault anyway unless you put too many oranges in the bowl and were only supposed to place two. Still, she probably can’t count but that says nothing about the turn of her elbow on the...
by Charles Harper Webb | Jan 28, 2014
The corn has stopped whispering, “Rise,” and waits in silence for high clouds to bend in rain. Across the highway, soybean bushes crouch like green dogs wolfing bowls of earth. The actors in the hit play Boomermania wake, achy-boned, with ancient jingles in their...
by Michael Hudson | Jan 16, 2014
Back when I was worse than harmless, she loved me, I think, after I’d spent six weeks disintegrating myself all over her floor. But who wouldn’t pity such sorry trade goods? Great stuff! I’d insist, an agent who believed his own junk, guilelessly swindling the...
by Sarah Messer | Jan 8, 2014
I don’t remember the coyote or how I woke here not remembering my body or the shape that your hand left inside me. Desire on the nightstand like an empty claw and the candle reflected in the dark glass behind the curtain. And beyond that, the sound of coyotes in the...
by Kirsten Clodfelter | Dec 30, 2013
I. The thought of you: Wild. Spreads and inhabits. In my mind, as you are in our shared days, uncontained. You heat through each neuron, the six letters of your name in lights. The fragile dendrites spark electric, every branch flooded with your current. Saturation as...
