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December 3, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
…and find inside a picture, of myself as a child, sitting on a small chair, wearing overalls and shoes that must have been hand-me-downs because they are so worn the sole is coming loose....
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December 1, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
When it’s yourself who’s looking and looked at— a myopic knowing in the morning, sleep-struck and shocked— this is my face! Unshareable, one-of-a-kind blandness....
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November 30, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
A woman in a black kimono dyed black hair disappeared behind a black curtain I’d decided to give a poetry reading in drag A feather boa many...
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November 29, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Grandmother, You sit, Wrapped in your Persian melon-colored blanket, Rock back and forth, On that old rusty country porch, Whom the neighbors across the street Once called, Rusty Oak. Spit...
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November 28, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Lady Haiti, sister of all black nations, bold Mother of my ancestors ascendant acoustic homeland, I hear you. Your sonorous voice sounds like the homemade goat skin Bata drum beating in...
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November 27, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Hilda and her children are crammed into our front room. $8 a month holds her whole life in it. When her husband showed up blind, his whole family threw her out. They had always known...
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November 22, 2013 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
When you are young, you believe in things because you have no reason not to: a fat jolly man riding reindeers across the sky. Sure. A bunny that lays eggs in a basket. Why not? And when...
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November 22, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
At last, the extremes of his present methods seemed to offer the happiest avenues. The strengthening of even a single cell might become as much as new knowledge where ratty camouflage is...
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November 21, 2013 |
in Poetry |
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0
We hold intractable notions of ourselves as agents with free will. But someone is what he is and was what he was and will be what he will be, once and forever. Even with time travel,...
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November 20, 2013 |
in Poetry |
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0
On nights like this, the road bends into blackness and the white lines paved into the tar look like slivers of bone, and the air whistles through the open window, and the trees rustle their...
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November 20, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
After the long sigh of the violins wound you beyond repair your last plink disturbs the silence, and a cat in another dimension’s driveway will look up from under the warm space of a...
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October 11, 2013 |
in Art & Photography |
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0
In a strange twist of what seemed like reverse vandalism, the Graffiti Mecca or 5 Pointz, NY, was painted over with white paint in the middle of the night. (This occurred in November;...
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September 29, 2013 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
(colored pencil on slate, “Flora,” by Lori Field) On the wall in Westminster the rabbit girl hums herself awake....
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September 20, 2013 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
In essence, we are all the ‘other’, and when we recognize this the world opens up.–Lori Field Pamela Hughes: Your works are often magical combinations of human and...
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September 20, 2013 |
in Fiction |
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0
Tomorrow “You stole the dog.” She corrects him: “I didn’t steal her. I took her. She’s Boyer’s dog. If Boyer had a child, we’d take the child, wouldn’t we?” “If...