Diving

Diving

I keep coming back to the night we found out about the twins. Michael and I had been married for ten years at the time. Clare would have just been turning five. Michael had been called in before, but never for anything like this. Our community hadn’t faced this kind of tragedy since that boy had gone missing in ’87, but then, he was never found, and anyway, that was before Michael started diving. read more
GMR

Recent Posts

Two Poems

I remember running into a tenement building, / up to the second floor, then looking out a hall window / where my friends were doing the duck walk read more

Announcing the Winners and Finalists of the 2017 Neil Shepard Prize in Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry

Green Mountains Review is pleased to announce the winners and finalists of the 2017 Neil Shepard Prize in Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry! The winners will receive $500 and their work will be featured in our next print issue, 30.1, released in February 2018. The finalists will be published in GMR Online. Congratulations to our winners and finalists! read more

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Green Mountains Review, based at Johnson State College in Vermont, is a biannual, 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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Bruce, on Ice

Bruce, on Ice

Phoebe swears that the slick roads and misty skies, and the fatness of the roses in our front yard are all signs that point to Bruce. When we hear “Bruce” called out at a restaurant, or see the name in the newspapers, or watch a movie with a character named Bruce, she grabs my arm and says, “See?” read more
Two Poems

Two Poems

The NYT today says Haiti’s Baby Doc / Duvalier is dead. So that’s that— / another brutal dictator escapes without / paying his tab. It’s almost dusk / as a cloud a little darker than the others / leans down to kiss the grey sea. read more
A Protective Impulse

A Protective Impulse

We want to believe that there is nothing natural about numbers. These ciphers are our perfect projections, whom we marshal and archive, in endless right angles. Though they have pores and spines, the tables we fashion for them are not carcasses or skeletons, not birds shorn of feathers and skin. read more
Origin Story

Origin Story

This afternoon, Iris’s mother plans to swallow a pill that will dissolved her thyroid gland, cure her hyperactive metabolic disorder, and turn her, temporarily, radioactive. She will lift the white pill over her blushed lips and open her teeth so that the chalky capsule can dissolve in her arteries and turn her blue veins nuclear. read more
Red Tide

Red Tide

Robby Johnson sits at the bar drumming his fingers on a bottle of Bud. He’s been sitting in that same spot, two stools from the door, for the past two weeks. Since his dad and brother died. The only other person at the bar this early is Jimmy. read more
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