A Cliff Over Blue

For most, night was bleak, day was sleep,   For him, dark lit sky, same as it all A single glare, and revolving glass A bed warmth,   Through blackness, Lying under, A triumphant yellow,   For him, night was light, day was black.   For him, blues were a loss, whites were his home,…

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Lisa Wick

Standards The dust of the standards that used to hold this body There was always something here that talked and kept talking, that warmed its way around. It used to make me believe It used to make me believe that people were always supposed to evolve into something particular, something sound. I wonder about that,…

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The Things They Were Wrong About

Melissa didn’t know why she was surprised that you could see all the gum stuck to the parking lot. You could see it right through the clunky gray snow and ice drowned by exhaust fumes. Every frostless patch shone with a newer squashed piece of color against the old, worn black tar. She imagined future…

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Flyover Country

White warriors posted in the wind, arms moving like synchronized swimmers to a symphony of corn husks and diesel engines. I see them towering in the distance like watchful giants of a fairy tale once told. I am so small and insignificant when standing next to them, these monoliths woven into the heartland’s quilted fields….

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A Day in the Life of a Self-Professed Romantic

He steps outside of his putty house and stares at the midnight sun; catches flurries of pastel colored barnacles on his tongue.   Candy-coated cigarettes, puffed in rings of lavender scented mist toward the stars.   The humans make their way through slush and liquid concrete. Golf cart garbage men slip between alleys and nail…

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Gabrielle Tyson

Symmetry I look up at your face and can see that you’re a little worried, too. I know all about your oh-so-green dietary plan, but in this bar there isn’t even a salad.   What I really want is buffalo wings. I swallow hard and do my best to smile. You frown at the menu…

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