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Winter 2016

Volume 62.1

Past Issue

Spring 2015

Volume 61.3

Past Issues

Winter 2015

Volume 61.2

Fall 2014

Volume 61.1

Spring 2014

Volume 60.3

Rage Hezekiah
I plucked an owl pellet from the ground cradling it, delicate, as if a palm-sized bird and not the mass of bones and fur purged from a second stomach. In science class as a girl, I learned these dark forms teemed with the remnants of undigested pieces. Wielding a small scalpel, my latexed hands unfolded the debris, bits of spiny tail, shards of teeth and claws. Sharpness cased in what looked like hardened mud, but wasn’t. I was fascinated picking it apart, plunging tweezers into particles of animals long dead. The girl beside me raised her palm, tentative into the room’s warm air, but they don’t look like they could hurt anything, eyes fixed on color photos of their feathered bodies. We’d been told owls eat their prey whole. I’ll never kn [...]
Judy T. Oldfield
Mon Chou – (Fr.) ca. 1997 1. A phrase of French origin that literally translates as “my cabbage.” 2. A French term of endearment. 3. A phrase I learned in French class freshman year of high school and began calling you, which you did not like (see definition 1). Light – (Eng.) ca. 1998 1. A source of illumination or heat. 2. An ignition. 3. A light c [...]
Tessa Livingstone
Hollow, like a tunnel-boned bird, the cello is held securely by its neck while one hand twists the tuning peg, evoking a shrill, sharp sound. From the farmhouse an ill-fated rooster calls out, ruffling its feathers bathed in dust and inflicted with sickness. The cellist envisions red, unblinking eyes, the curling of armored toes, the tan [...]
Jim Davis
It's now, she says. Now, & never again – so we beat on, boats against the current & swooned slowly, heard the snow falling faintly through the universe. I had been there before, lying on my back, thumbing my nose at You Know Who, which is why I don't tell [...]
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 [...]
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 animat [...]
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 downstairs to the guest bathroom instead of using the master. He flinched after he turne [...]
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Dear friends, writers, and readers, Portland Review is pleased to announce the winner of the [...]
Dear friends and community members, Portland Review celebrates its 60th year with the releas [...]
Dear writers, artists, and friends, For February, 2016, Portland Review is accepting fiction [...]