Additional Selections from This Issue

Opyata by A. A. Weiss

The prostitutes of Montgomery, State Alabama, were not social climbers.

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Ordinary Psalm After Failing Another Child

I walk home through an abandoned citrus orchard.

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No Occasion by Mary Ann Samyn

In the book, a girl and her doll wait their turn.

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Undiagnosed by Kari Putterman

First thing in the morning, I dry brush my body, run a bristle brush over each under-functioning limb.

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, Even by Dan Beachy Quick

Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness.

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The Emergency of Poetry by Mark Irwin

The poet resembles the paramedic in that she or he arrives first at the accident of language.

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Visible: A Triptych by Elizabeth Horneber

I was eleven or twelve when my mother bought me, as a gift, a Visible Woman kit.

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This Mother is Learning About Fathers by Charlotte Pence

A friend once told me about a time her husband had to change their kid’s diaper at the Farmer’s Market

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House for Sale by Owner by Scott Loring Sanders

House for Sale by Owner—3br, 1½ bath, charming ranch circa 1948, bathrooms renovated 2011

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Trains by James Chesbro

Our trips to the city were powered by a current of danger, of our vulnerability to the electricity that throbbed invisibly in the tracks, of the need to walk in haste to avoid strange men yelling at you. Walking behind my father in Philadelphia was like sitting in the train car during those moments when you go underground before the lights come on. He carried me on his heels for a ride through streets I didn’t know. I watched his torso shift and his arms swing in front of me. He was my father, and I followed him.

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O. mykiss by Lisa Charnock

Rainbow trout, western native
her blush running from gill to tail
 

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