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editors' select: results 25–48 of 49
2 December 2004
Vol. 4, No. 4
poetry
For two full days the sirens
realized their high notes
in the quivering saucers
stacked inside cupboards…
2 September 2004
Vol. 4, No. 3
poetry, elegy
My eye never filled with blood.
I never asked why
was I drugged and held down. Taken away.
Mesmerized. I wasn't a two-headed dog…
2 September 2004
Vol. 4, No. 3
poetry
In the middle of it, being riven
apart by a finger, by a stiff tongue probing
the blind bone tail of my spine…
2 September 2004
Vol. 4, No. 3
poetry
It is both the depth of field and snow
that have shortened the telephone poles
by half or more.
2 September 2004
Vol. 4, No. 3
poetry
I had a laughter & for that
you had fir trees.
2 June 2004
Vol. 4, No. 2
poetry, elegy
And why not an equation? The numbers
keep him warm at night, beg him to read stories.
They believe in him when his wife will not,
when the forecast calls for snow, unending snow…
2 June 2004
Vol. 4, No. 2
poetry
Not the northern lights or the atom's first splitting.
Not the backyard, the tree, or the fence.
Ladybugs landed all day in everyone's hair,
An invasion.
2 June 2004
Vol. 4, No. 2
fiction, short story, million writers award
His cubicle wall shuddered for the third time in the last hour, and he automatically began fishing fallen thumbtacks and papers from the crevice where the wall met his desk. He'd tried talking to her. He'd tried making a joke of it. But no matter what he said, Patricia Trumble's enthusiasm, speed, and girth propelled her rolling desk chair into their shared wall space repeatedly each day.
2 March 2004
Vol. 4, No. 1
poetry
What do you love the most?
Say the reddish work of death
as it strolls through the fields…
2 March 2004
Vol. 4, No. 1
poetry
If Cyclops Mary heard it.
If that sentence flew clean into the ear.
If the whole thing traveled pure,
unrustled by the pigeons.
2 March 2004
Vol. 4, No. 1
poetry
I will wander afield as you shall pace a plot
made similar by the action of our actual soles,
treading the salted soil or goodly ice
in the sun's track…
2 March 2004
Vol. 4, No. 1
nonfiction, memoir
In the dark early morning of a heavy snow there is the sound of metal against rock, a scraping, low at first but relentless, insinuating. It worms itself into my dream, insisting that I awake. Outside it is dark but I can make out the figure of a man with a shovel.
2 March 2004
Vol. 4, No. 1
fiction, short story
"Pat, you should start doing the wangs now so that the sass is nice and tacky," Tom says to me as he pumps the keg. Tom is wiry and handsome. I'm neither of these things.
2 December 2003
Vol. 3, No. 4
poetry
Let us first think about our spines.
Twitching in the harmless outfit. See blades
& sockets, then dinosaurs. Then see the scar
of string through our center.
2 March 2003
Vol. 3, No. 1
art, interactive, macromedia flash
2 September 2002
Vol. 2, No. 3
poetry
The blood stain on the chair
in our bedroom at the four-star hotel
does not bother me.
2 September 2002
Vol. 2, No. 3
fiction, short story
Ellie, barefooted, has just stepped on a wasp. She doesn't feel it at first—not for the quick pangs of summer heat radiating off the gravel drive—but soon an ache travels up her leg and she lets out a shriek…
2 June 2002
Vol. 2, No. 2
poetry
Once again, we find
ourselves under the
anarchy of starlight…
2 June 2002
Vol. 2, No. 2
fiction, flash fiction
He posed and I photographed him in our hallway on Mercer Street, so pleased by the fact that we had one. The microwave was shiny and white and built in under the counter, suspended, with bright blue numbers that kept time.
2 June 2002
Vol. 2, No. 2
art, interactive, macromedia flash
2 March 2002
Vol. 2, No. 1
poetry, prose poem
This hammock is strung for one, and it's so humid outside that we stink. If I concentrate, maybe I can weigh us down, till the netting is barely grazing the acorns below us. When we touch the ground I will orgasm. I'm preparing for it now, facing down while you sleep turned towards the sky, my breath moving your collar.
2 March 2002
Vol. 2, No. 1
fiction, short story
The party ended when someone threw the baby in through the window.
2 December 2001
Vol. 1
art, interactive
2 December 2001
Vol. 1
art, interactive