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  • In When We Were Birds, Joe Wilkins wrests his attention away from the griefs, deprivations, and high prairies of his Montana childhood and turns toward…
  • by Carmen Giménez SmithWhen God was a woman,empire was meh.When God was a woman,we built Schools of Listeningand every week we sat quietlyuntil we could…
  • by Mark GibbonsRaven strutsDown the sidewalkTastingThe airShakes itsTuxedo tailDips to cleanThe cementCaws to anotherCombing the grassHop-RoamingThe…
  • by Richard O. MooreAfterward, you look on the world as a happy placeflush from arrival into a new land of not being in pain.Is there anything forgotten,…
  • My spirit is starving.How can it be fed?Not by pain in the predictable futurenor the pain in the pastbut understanding the invisible flowerwithin the…
  • substitute teaching one daythey, too young to be properly diagnoseda.d.d, a.d.h.d, FAS,abused, neglected,child of an alcoholic3rd born in a line of…
  • who coils in my bones,what were you thinking that summer nightwhen you found the warm roadon the edge of the canyon and stoppedjust there exactly at the…
  • Saif Alsaegh was a young boy living in Baghdad, Iraq, on September 11, 2001. At the time, he and the other members of his family didn't even know where…
  • the empty lake, the static on the radio, the yearswith missing handle bars—the one that halfway fit him was the gloves.He wore them all spring, then all…
  • I slept in the valleyshivering, neck sorefrom carrying a dead treeacross my shouldersI needed the woodbut moreI needed the painRaccoon windshudders…