Such a Greek gift this cancer is inside your body, crone artifact. Cronus, chemo, metastasis, a blade taking time in your breast, adulterers flogged, our family sacked. Poseurs and posies, pollen spilt, demon drops, lemon drops, alveoli, arteries garroted and bled. All the unholy mysteries confessed to the oxygen mask, thermometer no sweet to suck on. The specters of every defile, still wounded, appear at…
Dry
Somewhere in the distance, the earth burns. The sky is close and cupping like the inside of an egg. Five hundred heifers and their calves have been swept together across hundreds of acres. The men drive the cattle into a yawning Colorado horizon. Horses, whips, and border collies descend on the stock and push the herd toward new pasture and old branding stalls. They have…
The Lost Village
Josh “Skull” Dixon is a Portland-based animator, illustrator, and story artist. He has created works for publication, table top games, video games, TV, and film. His personal philosophy as an artist is that a story is everything and has the greatest impact on our society. A good story in a visual medium can grab an audience’s attention, hold that attention, and inform and illustrate the…
In The Dustlight, Listen
1/ Tonight the trees are paper nuns leaning over fox bones. And you’re still here. Near the railroad cars. Near the shallow hillside. Your hands just as thin as they always were. 2/ Give me your glass-eyed stare, Father — ask me if these stars have any use at all. Tonight, we are just as designed for flight as a rhythm of sparrows, our…
The Evening House
Photograph appears in our Fall 2014 issue. Christopher Woods is a writer, teacher, and photographer who lives in Houston and Chappell Hill, Texas. His published works include a prose collection, Under a Riverbed Sky, and a book of stage monologues for actors, Heart Speak. He conducts creative writing workshops in Houston. His photographs have appeared in many journals, with photo essays published in Glasgow Review,…