Latest Writing
POETRY
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THE END OF LABOR by Al Maginnes
I stared through noon-shaded glass to see how we are measured against our tasks. My father and other men made sacraments of sweat, days measured in squares of dirt, lengths of wood, packets of seed.
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THREE POEMS by David Winter
STORYBOARD We spent her sixteenth, my seventeenth summer perched on a porch, talking out our love for her man. I had little language. She was luculent. We worked back through wrong things, arriving before him. Her mouth opened, black as a movie reel—I do not want to project. She storyboards:
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SELF PORTRAIT AS TEENAGED BOY BEATING SWAN
by Colleen AbelSometimes you have enough– the cob, the pen twining their necks to hearts, all that fidelity. The dank pond by the council flats, like it’s bloody Windermere. You only wanted to wreck that love-shape they were making.
FICTION
TRANSLATION
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