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THE POD by Nicole Brogdon

Nicole BrogdonTHE POD I never felt enough eyes on me, never enough love. Never enough arms, wrapping round my body. Nor hands, chopping vegetables for soup. Not enough healthy backs, moving my furniture. More hands, putting on clean sheets—floral sheets,…

THE BACK NINE by Kim Magowan

Kim MagowanTHE BACK NINE The email is from Marianne’s boarding school classmate Harrison McBee, then captain of the lacrosse team, now an investment banker living with his husband in Manhattan; the subject heading is “Sad News.” Reluctantly, Marianne opens it.…

BABY, SWEETHEART, HONEY by Katie Tonellato

Katie TonellatoBABY, SWEETHEART, HONEY When I was young, they called me baby, sweetpea, honey, cherry pie, chubs. So often they called me these things, that when they called me my name, my real name, I curdled into myself, unfamiliar, anticipating…

SALT PAINT by Claudia Monpere

Claudia MonpereSALT PAINT Tina and her sister, Meredith, are painting cats on the six-foot cardboard coffin. Tuxedo cats, tortoiseshells, tabbies, Maine Coons. Meredith is the real artist. Tina should have left her to it, sick of her sister offering advice…

EXHUME by Sofia Drummond-Moore

Sofia Drummond-MooreEXHUME The bog body lies on the light table like an oil spill made flesh.   Curled on his side, knees drawn up, Avril can see the outlines of his once-bones under skin like leather. She can also see the…

AQUACULTURE QUARTET by Jess Yuan

Jess YuanAQUACULTURE QUARTET [1] to explain eyestalk ablation imagine floating mid face fallopian tube connecting to the ocular nerve ………….in your shrimp body ………….eroded by a losing economy overextending, deteriorating because blindness makes more babies in her ………….she grows fertile…

LIGERTOWN: HERALDIC ATTITUDE by Susan Goslee

Susan GosleeLIGERTOWN: HERALDIC ATTITUDE Ligertown —Idaho, 1995  Heraldic attitude —Photograph of lion 9 Goldenrod lines the creek like torches lighting the road to a garrison. Narrow banks shortbread-mold the lion’s spine and chest, but his red-gold mane floats out as…

AT ELEVATION by Ariana Kelly

Ariana KellyAT ELEVATION In mid-June after my sophomore year at Yale, I took a Greyhound bus from New Haven, Connecticut to Boise, Idaho for $59.00. The ride took three-and-a-half days, during which two people were kicked off in Ohio for…

SOMETIMES WE SPEAK TO OURSELVES by Peter Grandbois

Peter GrandboisSOMETIMES WE SPEAK TO OURSELVES in dead things   other times   we fit too many   bodies   into the meadow where the elk   whistle and stamp   it’s strange this book   of burning   leaves where snow   sometimes settles   inside like prayer   other…

HOSPICE INTAKE by Luke Koesters

Luke KoestersHOSPICE INTAKE I close my eyes and jump / off a stone pointed cliff. / I’m back to falling / into the gulch below La Quebrada. / I was high diving / only four months ago. / I open…

THE DETRIMENT OF DOUBT by Hannah Smart

Hannah SmartTHE DETRIMENT OF DOUBT “Hello, I’d like to report a fire at the Gerry’s Pizza off West Ninth Street.” “Okay, and your name, sir?” “Gerry Parker.” “Could you describe the situation?” “I am seated in the restaurant parking lot…

STAY ON THE LINE by Richie Zaborowske

Richie ZaborowskeSTAY ON THE LINE A tornado of nurses blew in. The whole maternity care team. Cracking commands. Swirling around. Wheeling your wife away. And when you stood to follow, they told you, no. To wait, and not worry.  So…

MANGER, EMPTIED by Michelle Bitting

Michelle BittingManger, Emptied I saw the shepherds slogging through red dust,Their sandals kicked up a ruddy cataclysmWith palm trees sighing through green stars above. This was in Los Angeles where the active sitefeatured a bereft crèche, no babe front and…

FREEDOM TRAIL by Joshua Ambre

Joshua AmbreFREEDOM TRAIL In front of the visitor center, our tour guide adjusts his breeches. They’re slightly too tight to be family-friendly, but I’m relieved to have something to look at besides old buildings for the next hour. I watch…

RETROSPECTIVE by Marie Manilla

Marie ManillaRETROSPECTIVE Lena skids around the backseat as the cabbie rudely shifts lanes. Her gnarled knuckles couldn’t negotiate the seatbelt. The tunnel engulfs her, the hum and grrr. The weight of all that earth compressing her brain. But they emerge…

TRANSNESS AS PERPETUAL PAPERBOY by Gideon Huan-Lang

Gideon Huan-LangTRANSNESS AS PERPETUAL PAPERBOY Imagine: Victorian hand-me-downs, black suspenders, tweed-lined cap. And he is holleringabout the end of the world. Extra! Extra! Read all about it. Call him doomsday cult, the way he had broken his voice already—the Titanic,…

Cleaver Magazine