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5 Things I've Learned After 5 Years of Reviewing Small Press Books and Writing 2 of My Own

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In today’s print-on-demand and digital world, there are unlimited avenues for aspiring writers to circulate their work, but deregulation and limitlessness often leads to chaos. Writers are more inclined to release unpolished work that fails to rise to the

The Forsaken

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Every town has one. Or one at the very least...

James Dean

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The woman lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She took a long drag, tilted her head back, paused. Her eyes flicked to the NO…

The Swans

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The struggling creature opened its beak and let out a shrill cry before both parents moved in and, using their webbed feet, forced its head back under the surface.

Dread and Circuses

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It is claimed we choose/ conditions of our servitude.

One Way (for Tina Kieffer)

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This mother, she buys a one way ticket whenever she visits her three daughters who have wandered far from the eyes of her pearlescent knitting needles and tutti-frutti yarns.

Dashboard Jesus

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When I first started this, a few months ago, I was timid about looking people in the eye.

My Belgian Waffle-Hound: Song

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I was walking my Belgian Waffle-Hound Past the Belgian waffle shop I found a penny on the ground And did a tiny little hop I spun around and went inside The Belgian waffle shop And bought a little waffle For my Belgian Waffle-Hound

Dream Boats

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The Inauguration Day Windstorm had blown out half the downtown lights to celebrate its twenty-first birthday. Two old friends flecked with gray snow and white hair sat on the boulders that kept the Sound from sweeping away Myrtle Edwards Park. Look at all the…

Childbed (cenotaph song)

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Those who don’t die, desire, descend. No song aloft arises from my irk. The seeing chieftain, not of sea, nor sand, nor boat, I till nightfall stammer alive, dig boneless trenches against tiding dregs and lathe, hunt, wallow, plow the hours, call in awei

loose threads

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Blankets were always her undoing.

This Is Why

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Look at this castle: fashioned from the sturdiest sand, pages of my name

it

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where will we be/ when it happens?

Born in 1991

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Sometimes I think living in a house with so many rooms / you can get lost just making your way to the fridge / should be enough. I chastise myself for wanting more.

Magdalena

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Magdalena followed the receding tide, her tiny feet leaving no rumors in the hard sand. She gathered only the most beautiful shells and presented them to her waiting Abuela. Her grandmother told her that the only things that a woman truly owns are her dreams. She told her…

I Russian Bride - Letters 1-6 (novel excerpt)

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Online dating. Russian women. Beware.

Grimace

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I dreamt I was raped the other night. Sometimes it was me, that is, and sometimes it was another woman with a dark bouffant hair-do. Definitely outside though and the hulking back of the man was covered by a charcoal wool…

Rough Cut

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He bites and imagines, numbed by want.

Assiduity Twenty

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I experience a presence when walking through the forest . . .

The Tourists

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He thought of his field trip from the previous year, of Prague’s museums, statues, squares, architecture, restaurants, and various modes of transport. The town offered none of these and surely no cinema, no crowds of people, not even an old church.

Death Along the Jersey Rails

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like old discarded snake skin, dry and coarse after the bite... immortally tortured by broken glass bottles.

Caterpillar on a Chalkboard

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What do you want me to tell you about this next full moon cycle that you don't already intuitively seem to have touched upon in your latest bout of almost there dreams? It too will pass? That it is a totally different unfair animal from the repellent one already…

Love Tracer

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(2:56 a.m.): "Hi it's Charlie it's Pat at 4:00 in the morning my time. I just wanna tell you that I wouldn't mind getting him in bed with you the rest of my life."

Ascension of the Conquistador

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One of Montejo's cap­tains has us drilling in the rain again. The sun hasn't shone for days and the air is sti­fling, like try­ing to breath under water. Every­thing looks gray except the palms. Each green leaf droops in the rain like a…

A Year and a Day Then

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Removing the deeply embedded jack-blade frommy naked side, like any slicked-upsplinter, was just a bit jarring on the first bite, on first try, I must admit. I freelydo so now to your frozen-over faces. You made your…

The Sunlight of the Mind

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The nerves are birds that guide us to feeling the loop and lift of reverie.

Escaped Poems

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Sometimes my poems escape. They crawl out through my Wi-Fi connection, I suspect.

Assiduity Twenty One

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Blue skies greet us as we exit the forest . . .

stung

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Lust

What Keeps Us Awake

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On Friday evenings they play Scrabble, a whole crowd of them. They use books to keep score, page numbers, instead of a long column of pencil scratches. They organize themselves into teams; the English majors all together, versus biology, history and horn players. She and he…