Tag: Four Way Review
-
BOY IN A FIELD by Shannon Elizabeth Hardwick
Boy in a field understand The lame Hearted go to him mouth filled Broken He brings the horses Of his grandfather His hands wheat Heavy I have seen him Monster himself With river-sickness and a girl His mother Maybe as a girl It is hard to say
-
TOWN OF THE BELOVED by Allison Seay
We rested on a blanket by the water where I combed the sand and spoke your name gently You slept but I was not tired and never have I studied the fullness of a back not even of the dying
-
GOSSIP TOWN by Allison Seay
When Esther is pouting and knows I am bored with her she asks if I am having one of my Days, and I say What? meaning no, meaning yes I am, and she says again and louder, “Are you having one of your Days” and the word Days is like a string of beads she…
-
CHIMERA by Vievee Francis
I have no charms. Admittedly. No gold comb can move through This mane. My skin is not translucent. It is not soft. Mine is a tail to fear. I know.
-
EPICUREAN by Vievee Francis
A hungry mouth, an empty mouth, insistent mouth, mouth that would be filled by the seaweed of me, that would crack the shell with a rock and take its portion. The mouth gages its slide, gapes— grotto mouth. Mouth where I might go to pray, to fall upon my knees before. A mouth full of…
-
GRINGO by Brandon Courtney
Wetback. Fence-jumper. My father’s heart fists with its yearly dying as he recalls his hired hand— a Hispanic—burying our tractor to its axle in a soup of snowmelt to men who, every morning, sit half-mooned around the greasy spoon’s table, lifting Styrofoam cups to sunburnt lips:
-
JANUARY by Sara Uribe, translated by Toshiya Kamei
JANUARY on the streets there are witnesses who swear they have seen me walk around certain places they say I live beyond the other side of the word that I have a garden where instead of flowers every night I sow oblivion but I don’t know them and don’t know if they lie or
-
EDGE by Sara Uribe, translated by Toshiya Kamei
EDGE on the edge of time I chant your name over and over again like a spell but everyone knows a word loses meaning if you repeat it many times a word is too fragile not without breaking not without tearing with the opposite blade of silence so my voice disappears
-
ON THE SEPARATION OF ADAM AND EVE by Timothy Liu
It’s unknown when they were first parted, only that they were painted on panels by Goltzius circa 1611. Deprived of his companion in paradise, Adam showed up in 2003 at a French auction and was sold to a New York dealer, a branch of hawthorn in our forefather’s hand
-
FIRST MEMORYby Timothy Liu
My mother in a stupor, stumbling down the hallway in panties soaked in blood—
-
ANONYMOUS by Timothy Liu
A streak of moth dust left on the wall where a hand had been—
-
MAKE ME JUMP INTO THE AIR by Cat Richardson
After David Bowie’s “Moonage Daydream” Listen you’re a moonage marvel, a Bowie from the Bayou with a snake in your pant cuff. You carry an electric swamp around you like a cloak of wet stars.