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3 paintings
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Rain, Fall
by Julia Anderson
There’s nothing like a drought to make you apricate the miracle that is rain.
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Absence is
by Clara Burghelea
the hole that begs to be filled,
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ragged around the edges,
the suck of air scouring the flesh.
Later, its ghost scar will bruise
the skin like an unfinished poem.
This poem will cock its head,
squint its eyes and settle into flesh.
One day it will slip out of your skin
and into the world and it will be hard
to explain it came from a place of erosion. -
2 poems
by Adam Chabot
Without wind, winter’s cloak wraps tight
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around my shoulders as I take up my task -
2 scenes
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Seminole
by Gabriel Langston
It’s quiet as the sun rises
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the morning after.
I’m sitting by the shore,
waiting, holding my breath
and an old branch.
The bark turns to dust in my hands. -
Girls, We Did Not Graffiti Dicks in the Park Gazebo Just for the City to Paint Them Over
by Molly Kathryn Fisher
Read More »we sniffed the sharpie first. sniffed and snuffled and snickered i think i do feel a bit of something you guys because tina m. said the red sharpie’d take us somewhere over the motherfucking rainbow.
dizzy,
daydreamy,
and delirious on indelible markers, slip-sliding down the yellow brick road for
felt-tip phallic funny
fifth grade girl fun.
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Pesto and Fettuccine
by Gabriel Graham Piessens
I’ve been thinking about what life is
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What the point really is,
And I’ve come to the conclusion
That it is this: experience.


