Month: March 2020
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Lesion
The clinic made me sign a form of consent before the 3-D Ultrasound. Under her uniform, the nurse’s breast is pressed against the crook of my leg. She braces me for support as she eases the cold apparatus inside. Flash Fiction by Caitlin Andrews
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Coyote Country
Remember what you were told about the proper greeting. You must not look him directly in the eye. You must not speak unless you are asked a direct question. You must do what you are told. This is very important. Sometimes your mind wanders and you say what you are thinking. You know this is…
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Fire-dogs
First Place Winner of the 2019 Ada Limón Autumn Poetry Contest judged by Julia Johnson. Felled hickory spines the ridge. / Follow my father—ripe bar and / chain oil—drags ax. Shoulders / maul. Poetry by Adam Moore