Category Archive: 11: March 2017

Featured Artist — Rebecca Wolfram

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Click Images to Enlarge. “The works I have produced over the years reflect, admittedly, a negative view of the world. Instead of putting humankind on a pedestal and regarding its traditions and culture… Continue reading

3 Poems — Amorak Huey

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ROSE RED TRIES TO REMEMBER A TIME BEFORE WINTER Winter began the first time I lied to my mother. The first night I pretended to sleep as my sister sneaked out, the first… Continue reading

By the Time You are One Hundred — Laura Krughoff

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By the time you are one hundred, you have buried almost everyone you have ever loved. One would think death and dying would be familiar to you now, after all of these years… Continue reading

The Answer To Your Question Is, “Nostalgic For” — Cal Freeman

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the digital games that gave us the sensation that as time passed something was at stake, for those afternoons in the half story, wet plaster walls bathed in blue cathode ray tube light,… Continue reading

Standard Disclaimers — Jason Simon

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The following is probably a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is rendered moot by the author’s egocentrism and faulty memory. I think I first met John in middle… Continue reading

2 Poems — Ace Boggess

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POLITICS Students argue at the table nearest mine. You should vote for that guy or that guy, or maybe a woman, they say in turn. The one decked out in camouflage tells the… Continue reading

BARTHOLOMEW L. BARTHOLOMEW — D. A. Hosek

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I wasn’t always like this. I once held the position of Technical Lead at C——. Then this happened. For over a month, we’d been interviewing for a new developer to join my team.… Continue reading

2 Poems — Ellen Elder

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Another Wedding Season –After Elif Batuman’s article “The Ice Renaissance” in the May 29, 2006 issue of The New Yorker St. Petersburg, 1740 It was so cold the brandy froze. Bats fell from… Continue reading

The Moth — Toti O’Brien

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I couldn’t believe it let me come close, push the corner of its wing against the concrete, momentarily pinning it to the wall. Catching it under my cupped hand wasn’t possible: it was… Continue reading