Attractive Nuisance

Attractive Nuisance

A week after the fourth of July, my dog Speedy nipped an eight-year old kid who wandered onto my property from the subdivision across the way. Speedy was a Shepherd-Husky mix and normally pretty docile, so I thought the kid must have been teasing him, asking for it somehow. The kid went home and cried to his parents, then his father came over and said he’d called the police. He was about a foot shorter than me, and had a litigant’s righteous air. But, either he was bullshitting, or the police forgot to come, because that was the last I heard about it.

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GMR

 

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Visitation

I was never bent on saving you. / It seemed to mean a kind of coddling language: / the easy I hear you, the unnatural You’re seen. / Anyhow, I couldn’t step away from drinking / long enough to seem credible
when it came to addiction.

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Lend Me Your Hand

I arrived early at the Church of St. Mary at Westminster College to get my music together and try the piano. It was late April in Fulton, Missouri, cold and damp, and the morning haze set the church in a sort of numinous relief against the pervading Midwestern gray. I leaned against the large wooden door, stepped inside, and shook off the chill.

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Green Mountains Review, based at Northern Vermont University, is an annual, award-winning literary magazine publishing poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, literary essays, interviews, and book reviews by both well-known writers and promising newcomers.

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Easy Wonder

Easy Wonder

My love, we floated for hours / In kayaks, side by side, scarcely dipping our paddles. / No motors allowed here, no soul in any / Of the southerly shore’s three other cabins.

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Two Poems

Two Poems

  Like a violin wishing it were a piano.     Like a cirrus cloud afraid of heights. Like a Nobel scientist unsure of the science.   Like a barn   with hay-fever. Like a lake afraid of being too deep.   Like a song with a headache. Like an electrified fence wanting...

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Mystery, Menace, and Early Sorrow

Mystery, Menace, and Early Sorrow

The dolls never slept.  They stayed wide eyed and unblinking on their shelf in my small, overheated room, watching me watch the man and woman in the apartment across the way. As a child with insomnia, I was wide eyed, too, although I would have preferred sleep....

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