Prose, Poetry, and Art since 1956
There, in someone’s front yard I saw a glass bowl, turned over on a hole, with a red-brown brick on top. In that airless chamber, a small swarm of desperate wasps swirled. I did nothing to end this small cruelty. I went on walking, not knowing what my business was. — WLS (Wendy Lee Spacek) earned her MFA in Creative Writing from Indiana University Bloomington….
Bloody Mouth, You immure me. Mouth is holding an ocean of blood. Seething with jealousy, I tuck the tropical fishes and tinfoil seaweeds safely into cheek to taste saltwater without casualty. I am swollen with wisdom, though I am a celibate. I am told that I am. Venus nurtured from foam and molar from a man’s apparatus ascended to dismal immortality — I am sulfuric…
the futility of geography the distances that write themselves and the drifting belongings if I am not one or the other, maybe I am in the middle citizen of the Northern Atlantic of the Celtic seas and the Arctic waters I found shelter on a slippery rock a word that sounds familiar in this language that I do not understand that is spoken…
This Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, we will be featuring the winners from last month’s flash contest, held in conjunction with the AWP festival in Portland. Entries were received in paper form during the three days of the book fair, and selected by our editorial team. My father and I are museuming in Tacoma at the Foss Waterway Seaport. It is one of the few scattered times…
This Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, we will be featuring the winners from last month’s flash contest, held in conjunction with the AWP festival in Portland. Entries were received in paper form during the three days of the book fair, and selected by our editorial team. I don’t know if we are white or smudged with a soft…