Infamous

Infamous

breaks the pattern of pre- fixes and suffixes not taking the stress:   which makes me think: muh-fuhs as in what you muh-fuhs lookin at?   which could have been an infamous last question, given that those muh-fuhs stared at me all the hard-rockier   and...

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GMR

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The Island

Owen watched Aubrey press her palm into a thick patch of speckled moss girdling the trunk of an old Douglas fir. The move was gentle and precise, how a mime might seek an invisible wall, and he couldn’t help but imagine her locked up in some dark basement, kidnapped, as he suspected she’d been as a child. read more

Does Yours Have a Heart, Too?

Once there was a person who was tasked with reducing a mountain into a flat plain. For a shopping mall. For a housing development. For a prairie. For the gemstones within. They moved their family to a new home at the base of the mountain, which was tall enough to keep...

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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.

14 + 2 =

Two Poems

Two Poems

DAVID ALLEN SULLIVAN teaches English and Film at Cabrillo Community College in Santa Cruz, California, where he edits the Porter Gulch Literary with his students, and serves on the Veterans Task Force Committee. Two poems from his first book, Strong-Armed Angels, were read on The Writer’s Almanac by Garrison Keillor. Another two recent poems were selected by Alberto Rios and recorded as part of the permanent public art and poetry project Passage, in Phoenix, Arizona. His second book is from Tebot Bach, and is in multiple voices dealing with the Iraq war. Every Seed of the Pomegranate was a finalist for the May Swenson and Sarabande book prizes. He lives with the historian Cherie Barkey and their children, Jules and Amina Barivan. read more
Why Write? #15: Sarah Messer

Why Write? #15: Sarah Messer

The current issue of Green Mountains Review (Winter 2012) features the below poem by Sarah Messer. "Poisoned Mouse" accomplishes so much with so little that we thought we'd ask Sarah to talk about how it came about. --The Editors read more
Between This Their Hands Happened Everywhere

Between This Their Hands Happened Everywhere

They stood pressed together in an alley between crummy apartment buildings, the sky sick with rosy city-darkness. It was late and damp and they were parting, her staying, him going. Happy others, their age, smoked cigarettes and pot on back staircases and porches, laughing and leering, clinking bottles, their voices stumbling from on high into echoes. read more
Slow Burn: Review of Ship of Fool by William Trowbridge

Slow Burn: Review of Ship of Fool by William Trowbridge

The poetry reader and writer in me now wants to ensconce Ship of Fool in some august and impressive literary tradition, but Fool reminds me most of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series of comics (read “graphic novels”) from the early ‘90s. Like Gaiman’s pantheon of “The Endless” with Morpheus (or Dream) at its epicenter, Fool’s universe is likewise peopled with archetypes of nefarious or innocuous intent to confront, avoid, and sometimes spill coffee (or an accidental ice age) on. Which is to say, Fool is anything but a bore. read more
Evanescence: The Elaine Race Massacre

Evanescence: The Elaine Race Massacre

Mother casually mentioned that prior to her becoming a teenager, Lonnie had participated in a "well-known" race riot while in the employ of MoPac. Later on, she editorialized about it now and then . . . . Whenever she mentioned the race riot, Mother frequently referred to Lonnie, in a matter-of-fact tone, as a member of the Ku Klux Klan. read more
Evanescence: The Elaine Race Massacre (Part 4 of 4)

Evanescence: The Elaine Race Massacre (Part 4 of 4)

In my quest to sight an existential piece of Lonnie among the ruins of the Elaine Race Massacre, I had, after all, concluded history can be doubtless and too much and too little abided in the fields and fury of Phillips County for Lonnie and me to inhabit any amicable turf there--too much intervening and unsympathetic time, too much dismay as I turned the leaves of record, which bore too much descent and strife and turpitude, too little comity, too little heart. read more
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