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November 1, 2024 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
DREAM OF A COMMON LANGUAGE I dreamed last night I was drowningin your wreck, salt breaking meagainst coral and steel, while tideripped me further from shorewith...
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October 31, 2024 |
in Fiction |
admininfin8 |
0
Aileen was to be another triumph for artificial intelligence. Ever since Big Blue clobbered chess champion Gary Kasparov, machines had leveled the vaunted bastions of human intelligence. ...
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October 31, 2024 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
BISQUES So many heads thrown on the potter’s wheel to be turned and born too early, unable to open half- closed eyes. Impossible for an infant to hold its head up. We press the...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
One April Sunday, several months after Grandpa’s funeral, Dad and I drive in search of wild asparagus. Cruising side roads near our home on the outskirts of Ann Arbor, he drives slowly,...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
In the weeks before Halloween, edging to the end of the interminable election, I found myself obsessed with the silent vampire classic Nosferatu. The whys for my obsession are murky...
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April 5, 2024 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
SPRING EGRET Last summer this egret high-stepped the salt marsh a white puff of grace more follies fan than bird keen eyes keeping watch in the body’s long curves...
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January 2, 2024 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Mullions cut the windows into equal pieces, there were cats prowling the halls of the asylum. Nights straight-line rain hit the glass, the wooden rafters shook. Oracles in white uniforms...
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August 12, 2023 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Peggy Robles-Alvarado is a tenured New York City educator and award winning poet who inspires triumph and embodies strength. She is a 2021 Jerome Hill Foundation Fellow in Literature, a two...
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June 27, 2023 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
HOME / MEMORY / HOME — for the women of Ukraine I called my home “Memory” because before I was born ancestral voices...
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April 8, 2023 |
in Fiction |
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0
To get to the Howard Oberholter Artist Colony, I took a train to Plunketteville, then a bus to Upper Yarn. I hiked the last mile up a dirt road, humping a knapsack that contained a change...
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April 6, 2023 |
in Fiction |
admininfin8 |
0
I’m flat on my back when he takes out the gel. A gob falls on the floor. This won’t hurt, he says. Fisting my hands, I stare at the wall, the basin, a neatly framed poster...
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March 30, 2023 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
CRANING The wings are scoredfeather by featherof nearly weightless wood,and neatly folded one over the other.The student of art in Kinshasaput her name in capitals underneath.Mbantshi.I...
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January 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
All light of yesterday in this place is now hidden. It could be the ground heating my feet or it could have fled with the stream into some larger body. I wait for the moon,...
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January 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Insects have transformed into a graveyard the windshield of my Indian Scout. My brother rumbles down the engine of his Chief, pulls off his gloves, loads the camera &...
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January 8, 2023 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
Romantic partners just aren’t bikes, are they? My eighteen year old hybrid still runs like a dream. I just pump up his tires at the beginning of the season, and once or twice during, take...