Tag: Four Way Review
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MORNING ABLUTION by Khaty Xiong
Salt heavy—my oxen skin overrun & ringing Sunday plum—bodies whetted & sold in the East— fruits without flowers—the winter prostitute steel plowed—tender how she glows as the ocean would have me losing ear & piece— passage through veil—each tooth in place for feast…
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FIVE POEMS by Rachel Brownson
MARE INCOGNITUM The slow mineral seep and drip of groundwater, finding each crevice, the cold spreading, downward— the imagined weight of her breast, spreading to fill my hand…
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JESUS DEVIL CURSE by Lisa Lewis
If there’s one thing nobody wants, it’s a mare lame in both fronts. You pinch the fetlock arteries for the digital pulse. You pack the shod hooves with turpentine and sugar to draw the soreness…
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EXHIBIT by Leah Falk
Israel Museum The history of glass, the story of coins— both long tales of fire and trade. A little girl flickers away from her mother’s tour group to rub the mummies. Lo lichtzot, you can’t cross back that far.
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LETTING EVENING COME ON by Joshua Gottlieb-Miller
Seventeen, in a constant state of non-emergency. Walking with my dog, I’d invite neighborhood girls to join me. During the day we would follow the trail through the woods. At night, skirt along the road by the edge of the forest…
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STICK AND POKE TATTOO by Lucian Mattison
He sets a black chess rook aflame in a ceramic bowl stirs ashes with vodka into homemade tattoo ink…
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MOTHER AT THE BEGINNING OF TIME by Brian Russell
it’s almost noon and she’s still in bed with a headache everything expands the bedroom bursts with light an electrical storm rages in the quiet space of her skull…
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ALMANAC by Brian Simoneau
April sets us on the scent of summer, opens up a trail but it’s covered in mud. Buds on the branches but also mold begins to stain the plaster walls. Patter of rainfall lulls me, pulls me under after a week awake, weightless as I watch the minutes flicker…
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TWO POEMS by Angela Peñaredondo
ANOTHER WORLD GATHERS I sleep in a bedroom once a horse stable for a monastery. The monks have all turned & the cork trees stripped to red. I am a weak thing. A body down, an eaten up mosquito net…
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TWO POEMS by Derrick Austin
TIDEWATER PSALM …in heaven it is always Autumn —John Donne, Christmas Sermon, 1624 By sunset, the crickets’ trilling begins in the airless damp, rich with salt and the sulfurous fumes the Gulf flags off. Bristling cattails brush my hands. The light-crested water rises and falls like a chest flecked with blonde hairs. I feel estranged…
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Lipochrome by Nathan Poole
It did not go away—as everyone said it would. At nine months Ida was diagnosed with an obscure disorder. It was thought to be caused by an infection in the eyes at birth…