Current Issue

Spring 2015

Volume 61.3

Past Issues

Winter 2015

Volume 61.2


Fall 2014

Volume 61.1


Spring 2014

Volume 60.3


Winter 2014

Volume 60.2

Tim Bass
The day after Leon and Doris moved in, the next door neighbor serviced their water heater. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” Bill said. “Now, hand me that screwdriver and show me where the circuit breaker is.” Soon, Bill held up a corroded metal rod. “Here’s your problem,” he said. Leon had no idea what he was looking at. “Bad?” he asked. “To the bone,” Bill said. Leon thanked Bill. He said he was grateful for the help and the hot water. He said Bill saved him a bundle on a service call. “I’m not much of a fix-it guy,” Leon admitted. “No sweat,” Bill said. “We’re neighbors. Neighbors do things for neighbors.” Next, Bill serviced Leon’s lawnmower. “This is an issue,” he said, lifting the clogged air filter and rapping it against the side of [...]
Margaret Young
It’s not like you can compress the files of love to fit them in, there are eight thousand sixty twelve of them in orange steel drawers, not labeled well: you can’t, say, squeeze in rows of tiny corn urging up along North Professor, bottles of daylight leaking in the patient ditch while robins tug the slippery threads that hold it all together, th [...]
Lucie Amundsen
It’s just past midnight and my 13-year-old is not back from her babysitting gig. Abbie’s a couple of hours late now and the parents’ cell rolls directly to voice mail. Likely it’s just drained of charge from the weather. It’s that cold. Days of Arctic fronts have animated our newscasters, who brandish their arms over the Minnesota map as they issue dire [...]
Meredith Kunsa
(Florence, Italy) As I approach the piazza’s open-air gallery, Bologna’s Rape of the Sabine Woman thrusts above quarried stone — Romulus’s warrior stands dominant over the crouched Sabine man, while his woman writhes from the victor’s grip — flesh giving wa [...]
April Sopkin
Arnold woke and sat up. His heart thumped in his ears, and for many seconds he could hear nothing else. The plane crash in his dream was the third one this week. He peeled himself out of bed, careful not to wake his wife, Myra, and with the same care in mind went downst [...]
Brandon Krieg
Arrival at the Complex Over the rutted high road of this preserve, wide white contrails converge, dimensioning a cloudless vast wash above snow-battened grass: crisscross stalks, some pressed, some melt-released, conduct acute sun-slant down tangent conduits ¬– pattern circumscribed like Ojibwe basketwork in a museum by four roads’ [...]
J. R. Miller
1. I want to say it was Scott who—back in the seventh grade—stole his mom’s Valium, his father’s coke, his older brother’s weed, and his younger brother’s Ritalin. I want to say it was Scott who once, before Woodshop, put a dot in his eye and slipped into his own wor [...]
Zebulon Huset
If fruit could represent anything but sex I would be content to transcribe still-lifes, glad to stack sand castles from the grit of memory as Jaws trolls just offshore—which I do— but the slick-skinned, the bulbous, the juicy bits of ovarian flesh turn me to y [...]
K. P. Bushnell
The night the enormous cedar fell he was still sleeping with the window open and the door ajar though fall was quickly deadening into winter.  He had only just blown out the lamp and pulled the quilt to his neck when he heard the telltale crack and knew a tree—a big one—was going.  His eyes had not yet adjusted to the dark and it would be through the ro [...]
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This Saturday, Feb 21st, at 7 pm, Portland Review celebrates the release of our winter issue with readings by local contributors and we’d like you to join us! Fea [...]
Dear Writers, Artists, Friends, and lovers of the arts, Portland Review is now open through February for a new batch of submissions for Spring 2015.  We are looki [...]
Join us on Friday, November 14th at 7 pm, as Portland Review celebrates the release of our Fall 2014 issue with a reading event featuring the work of contributors to [...]