“Eden Church Ribbon of Windows, Louisville, Georgia” by Kathleen Galvin, 8x4.5, December 2017


The Measurer of Ruin

By Lynne Feeley

I am matching up misfortunes. In my left hand, I hold a Polaroid of a crumpled Saturn on rings of burned rubber and broken glass, while with my right, I tick through thick manila folders. I find the folder that matches the name my father has scrawled at the bottom of the picture….
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"Fingers" by David J. Thompson, 2017, photograph


Lingua Nova

By Mahdis Marzooghian

I Inpulsa/Negatio: I wish I could tell you I love you in every tongue ever spoken. Maybe then it will be enough. Maybe then it will convince you. Or maybe it will make up for the fact that I cannot be yours in this lifetime….
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"Truth" by Jenn Powers, mixed media/digital manipulation


Everything Presses In

By Rachel Veroff

Swish. Swish. The morning sun flashes through birch boughs as I race my flickering shadow. Cold air stings my face, and my skis whisper across the icy crust of daylight like a blade being sharpened….
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"Ezekiel's Chariot" by Jim Blythe



By Naomi Ulsted

I was watching television when my dad barreled into the living room in his boxers. He twisted and shimmied and slapped wildly at himself, his hands clapping sharply against his pale skin. My mother was at Grandma’s house…
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By Elsa Valmidiano

Blight: NOUN 1. Any of numerous plant diseases resulting in sudden conspicuous wilting and dying of affected parts, especially young, growing tissues. 2. The condition or causative agent, such as a bacterium, fungus, or virus, that results in blight….
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Dark Bodies

By Abi Newhouse

Olivia and I drove through the canyon in the dark. The only light came unnatural and electric from street lamps or the car clock or the bright headlights behind us. I followed the road, the curve of it, and the hill, and did all of this with tears dripping down my face…
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"Old Virginia City" by Donna Tucker, 14x12, acrylic on hardboard


Goodbye to All That

By Jordan Floyd

If Belle London were alive today, she’d be an intersectional feminist. She would frequent 25th Street in Ogden—where it all began, her Sin Alley, Two-Bit Street, the home of her once lucrative prostitution house…
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"Corde" by Dave Petraglia, Photograph


On Weaving

By Jericho Parms

Lately, in the middle of the night, I wake up in a tangle between the cat and my partner, whose chest rises and falls with his measured breath. I still use the word partner although it sounds like we are police officers or share leadership in a law firm…
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"Lost" by Catherine Howley, acrylic paint and pastels



By Meredith Boe

The planes over this city, they fly low. Above my bed, night or day, where I’ve spent my hours lately. The rush of vibrations gets louder, then softer, louder, then softer, like waves. When they’re really low, it sounds as if the sky is ripping in half. I go to work, read, drink too much, eat, make love. And repeat. Time feels wave-like, or more a whirlpool tub I can’t climb out of….
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Hieronymus Bosch (circa 1450–1516) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons


Honeymoon Reservations

By Nancy McCabe

The first time I saw a slide of Hieronymous Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” projected on the screen in art history class, Marc and I had been married for nine months and I felt like I was viewing a metaphor for my own life….
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