Spartanburg

Spartanburg

She took the knife out now. Richard had just risen, the mattress swelling with the forgiveness of his weight. He paused at the bathroom door, the light behind him throwing a shadow on the outline of his taut belly. A stiff, wiry hair, strong as an antenna, pointed from his middle roundness. Clara Jayne had the overwhelming urge to pluck it. Maybe even to suck it. He said, “I’m so glad we’re doing this,” “this” meaning the child he wanted and she didn’t.

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GMR

 

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Two Poems

It’s not like he can just be a rich dude, / my friend says of a guy we know. He has / enough money to keep him from finding / a job, not enough to just work on finding / himself. In money there are so many wrong / amounts. Zero, for instance.

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Fragments: From the Lost Book of the Bird Spirit

Karla Van Vliet’s lyrical imagination has unearthed for us a tender relic, Fragments: From the Lost Book of the Bird Spirit, her third collection. Fragments is posited as salvaged pieces of an ancient spiritual text, written in an early defunct language (as suggested by the cuneiform-like marks on the book’s cover), ardent lines that are the survivors of extensive effacement and erasure.

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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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You Haven’t Said No

You Haven’t Said No

Hiram had been avoiding the gay son of his recently deceased friend Tru Rasmussen. First, prior to his friend’s passing, he had run into the young man, Eldon, and his fiancé, Jasper, when they were registering for wedding gifts at Wal Mart. At the time, he didn’t think Eldon could’ve recognized him.

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Two Poems

Two Poems

This guy Lev, at the dinner party said, / If you don’t want your kids to have sex don’t finish the basement. / I don’t remember anything anymore, my 52 year old brain a soggy piece of kale, / but I remembered what Lev said.

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Two Poems

Two Poems

A room of solitude, the world. / Out the window huffs of wind / do what they can to enunciate. You listen / like a monk. A votive hula flame.

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After the Shipwreck: A Review of SIREN by Kateri Lanthier

After the Shipwreck: A Review of SIREN by Kateri Lanthier

“I sing these songs all through the dark, after everyone’s left.” The myth of the sirens has been used throughout history, to shame women or empower them, but always to warn men—women too can be dangerous. Their songs shipwrecked men, or lulled them into a vulnerable sleep, in some myths the sirens were even sent to find Persephone who had disappeared into the underworld. Kateri Lanthier’s second collection Siren, is as many-layered and multi-faceted as the myth of the sirens.

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Five Stories

Five Stories

I worked in media monitoring for a long time. I’m talking over a decade. Ten years and two months to be exact. Boy did I know my way around media monitoring. It’s an international environment so we were gang-raping the English language every conference room we went into.

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Two Poems

Two Poems

The clergy raise / their gooseneck / arms to the God / wouldn’t soften / the steel of bayonets / while the dust clouds

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Two Poems

Two Poems

The table we ate at is bare. Hours ago our fast broken / sunset & cannon-strike with apricot paste & Kingdom dates.

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