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It Happened in Brooklyn

It Happened in Brooklyn By Alena Dillon   |  December 9, 2019
They fell in love back when Brooklyn had trolley cards. He taped her photograph to the inside of his military locker. When the war ended...

Stray

Stray By Rebecca Lanning   |  December 2, 2019
She was over dogs when one appeared by their table at a beachside cafe. Strays roamed everywhere in Nosara, breedless, leashless wonders. This one had some pit bull and Corgi. Her husband thought hound. Pointy ears, long snout...

Feral Youth, Fast Cars, and Fraught Love

Feral Youth, Fast Cars, and Fraught Love By Brandel France de Bravo   |  December 2, 2019
While billed as a memoir, Knock Wood, winner of the 2018 Dzanc Nonfiction Prize, is more akin to a theme-and-variations composition: Think love-child of early Bruce Springsteen and Bach’s Goldberg Variations. An acclaimed poet, Militello tells her story in twenty-nine discrete essays that mostly eschew chronology.
Keywords: book review

Offering

Offering By Janet Pocorobba   |  November 25, 2019
Just twelve people. People I didn’t know from Adam. I could have refused. Could've shaken my head and deferred to any one of them. Inside me, I felt a squeezing in my chest.

Home

Home By Susan Pope   |  November 18, 2019
It was just a gray concrete shell, wrapped with chain link fence. A dream home, unfinished, left to sun, dust, and rain. Around it, pastel mansions with swimming pools, iron gates, and razor wire.

A Loss for Words

A Loss for Words By Eric K. Taylor   |  November 11, 2019
This Chinese bowl, smooth in my hands, white as bone, entwined with blue dragons, reminds me of my friend Joyce's mom. Faizai she'd christened me. Fatso. (The Cantonese more affectionate than its English equivalent.)

Weight of Bones

Weight of Bones By Jennifer Filardo   |  November 4, 2019
A loon is not crazy for spending more time in the water than in the air, though the other birds may think so. He is made for it. Unlike his feathered brethren, his bones are solid. He relies on their weight to defy the buoyancy of water...

The Biology of Flesh and Bone

The Biology of Flesh and Bone By Detrick Hughes   |  November 1, 2019
In To Float in the Space Between, Terrance Hayes writes, “One’s poetics should be liquid.” Before grabbing hold of that line, I had already dipped into this book’s structure, a dialogue between Hayes, Etheridge Knight’s life and his poetry, and interviews and stories by writers acquainted with Knight’s work.
Keywords: book review

Collision

Collision By Brian Wallace Baker   |  October 28, 2019
I have questions: What would cold steel feel like on the back of my skull? How many bones would shatter? Where would I land?

Beach Day

Beach Day By Elizabeth Amon   |  October 21, 2019
Blue skies, blazing sun, of course. But honestly, it was a perfect day for fleeing steaming city streets, freezing corporate offices, our apartment, where a stuffed hippo and a crocheted blanket menaced. Everything had changed.

Scent's Memory

Scent's Memory By Tricia Theis   |  October 14, 2019
"What's the word where it reminds you of a long time ago?" I'm trying to get us out of the house and I know I sound impatient when I respond. "Nostalgia?" "Yeah," he says, "I love that smell."

Many Lives, Many Bodies

Many Lives, Many Bodies By Katy Major   |  October 7, 2019
Noble’s slim collection is teeming with ghosts of all shapes and sizes. However absent the hauntings therein may feel to her, to this reader they are vivid and immediate and bold, nestled in dreamlike prose.
Keywords: book review

Clementine Time

Clementine Time By Anna George Meek   |  October 7, 2019
There is no time but the time in the kitchen. My father loses track of days, and I buy a "clock" whose only hand moves from Monday to Tuesday to Wednesday, as if distinguishing between the days were important.

Simplify, Simplify

Simplify, Simplify By Jan Priddy   |  September 30, 2019
This could be the morning I slide out the door instead of back under sheets and escape before I drink my coffee. My arms unburdened, no one calling me back, no shame or remorse to shadow my escape. Away.

Chosen for Something

Chosen for Something By Stacy Boe Miller   |  September 23, 2019
Sometimes as a child I would brush my grandfather's thinning hair. He was a long haul trucker turned Pentecostal preacher who mostly showed affection through prayer and cash money, both of which he handed out at random to his grandkids.

Footfalls

Footfalls By Andrea Marcusa   |  September 16, 2019
On the plane home, out the window, all I see is empty sky. As a girl, when talk of dying arose, I always gazed up to where I am now, drifting past the tops of snowy clouds.

Sneakers in Sand (repeat)

Sneakers in Sand (repeat) By Dina Relles   |  September 9, 2019
The baby's shoes were nowhere. That morning was spent in the chaotic swirl of cleaning and packing the vacation house

One Word Says It All

One Word Says It All By Jenna McGuiggan   |  September 7, 2019
Where—or what—is your hearth of hearths? Where is the place you feel most alive or connected? What is the thing that reminds you who you are and to what (or whom) you belong? In all the world, what do you call home? These are some of the questions that Annick Smith and Susan O’Connor pondered as they edited Hearth: A Global Conversation on Identity, Community, and Place.
Keywords: book review

Ritual (repeat)

Ritual (repeat) By Kelly Morse   |  September 2, 2019
Most nights I nurse my four-month-old daughter to sleep. The internet connection is terrible in our bedroom, the light thrown by the little green glass lamp not enough to read by, so I end up sitting in the semi-dark, looking across the bed to the window, or down upon the face of my baby in her steady, drowsy pleasure.

Mars and a Reflection of Mars (repeat)

Mars and a Reflection of Mars (repeat) By Carolee Bennett   |  August 26, 2019
"There are two red planets tonight," I say. And you reply, "What a brave universe." And I feel brave. Two 30-lb packs hang near the tent we pitched just before it got dark enough to need headlamps. It’s Night One of this backpacking trip.

The End of the Movie (repeat)

The End of the Movie (repeat) By Christopher Bundy   |  August 19, 2019
Today: summer afternoon on the front porch as thunderheads grow over the top of a giant oak. In the yard you perform perfect cartwheels, your legs long and straight in the air.

Bare, Naked (repeat)

Bare, Naked (repeat) By Andrea Fisk Rotterman   |  August 12, 2019
Rain falls, dimpling puddles. I kick off my clogs. My toenails shine like sparkling pumpkin peel. I slide my underwear and jeans down my legs, unsnap my bra, pull my sweatshirt over my head, lay my folded clothes on my shoes.

River Teeth Journal Issue 20.2

River Teeth Journal Issue 20.2 August 9, 2019
Featuring the writing of Rachel Weaver, Jeff Gundy, EmmaJean Holley, Anne McGrath, J. David Stevens, Jill Talbot, Sam Pickering, Evan Reibsome, E. J. Myers, Elizabeth Miki Brina, Rosanna N. Henderson, Chris Siteman, and Fleda Brown.
Keywords: 20-2

The Teacups (repeat)

The Teacups (repeat) By Pamela Rothbard   |  August 5, 2019
At the boardwalk, everything is past its prime: sweating hot dogs, mashed bags of cotton candy, melting ice cream. The workers move by rote--lifting and lowering the gate, pulling up on harnesses, scanning tickets. I slump in line.

Shapes Shifted, Senses Altered, Values Freely Wheeled

Shapes Shifted, Senses Altered, Values Freely Wheeled By Thomas Larson   |  August 2, 2019
There may be no more startling way to bait readers into an essay than this: “Is there a word for the unsettling sensation of sitting down on an unexpectedly warm toilet seat, because someone used it just before you and sat there for a good long while? Maybe something in German?” The author titles it: “FREUDENSCHANDE: PRIV(AC)Y,” that is “joyful-shame.” Using wilder “made-up” German compounds as section titles, she compares the “bowel mover” in the “public privy” to the commodious confessions of personal nonfiction, the emotional “shitshow” so many memoirists and essayists insist readers must sit with.
Keywords: book review

Playboy (repeat)

Playboy (repeat) By Steven Harvey   |  July 29, 2019
When my mother caught Chris and me looking at Playboy, we knew we were in trouble, but to my surprise she did not get angry. She took me into the house and pulled out the large glossy art books with paintings by the Impressionists.

Stand Up Tall

Stand Up Tall By Allen M. Price   |  July 22, 2019
My father turns his head, puts me on the floor, opens the screen, and walks out the back door. Just the silhouette of the bare trees shadowing night's sky is all I can see. I stand there for long minutes listening as night whispers peace.

Elizabeth Miki Brina

July 20, 2019
Elizabeth Miki Brina is a writer of literary nonfiction. Her work has appeared in Hippocampus, Hyphen, New Delta Review, and Under the Gum Tree, among others. Her first book, a memoir, is under contract with Knopf.
Keywords: 20-2

Fleda Brown

July 20, 2019
Fleda Brown’s collection of essays with Sydney Lea, Growing Old in Poetry (Green Writers Press), came out in 2018. The Woods Are On Fire: New & Selected Poems was published by the University of Nebraska Press in 2017. Her eighth collection of poems, No Need of Sympathy (BOA Editions, Ltd.) came out in 2013. Her memoir is Driving With Dvorak (University of Nebraska Press, 2010).
Keywords: 20-2

Jeff Gundy

July 20, 2019
Jeff Gundy’s eighth book of poems, Without a Plea, is just out from Bottom Dog Press. Recent essays and poems are in Cincinnati Review, Artful Dodge, and Terrain.
Keywords: 20-2

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