November 2009
24 posts
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Web-Only: We weren't trying to grow up By Dan...
Our only boundaries were the warnings of an empty gas light and the approach of police lights in the later nights, but all we could talk about was how trapped we felt, how our free time waned in parking lots and hidden groves. We leapt to our escapes— blown glass and the homeless man with his mattress behind the Giant who’d buy us booze for an extra buck; the blaring riffs of an Incubus...
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See You Later By Allison Novak
It is 1999. I am ten years old, and it is holiday time. I live in Maine. It’s beautiful in the winter, snowy and cold and the ocean—the ocean! It gets all misty and has what is called ice fog, a fog that only hangs over the water in the early morning from the extremely cold temperatures. It’s almost a surreal scene. In the midst of all of this, my grandfather is dying. I am ten years old, and the...
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Web-Only: On the Look-out of the Mast By Dan...
I crash into the cradle of my bed, let my sails sag and anchor fall to the sea, chest heave to the rhythm of your blink behind my eyelids. I crane my neck back and think of you, imagine my nails tracing the comma of your navel as your breath comes out in ellipses. I feel your legs clasped ‘round me, two parentheses around “etc.”
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The Barista by Mike Kuethe
She puts on a blank white apron before putting on a smile, and turns to face the people beyond the counter. She processes each of us efficiently: give a friendly greeting, trade an order for cash, give coffee, move on. But when I reach across the cold, hard marble to hand her some bills, I see a face behind the smile. Two circles shadow her eyes and a line furrows her brow. And for a moment I...
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Laughter by Mike Kuethe
Laughter We laugh at the man in a tattered black suit, who sits by the crosswalk at night, who plays the harmonica and sings little songs and takes loose change, if we’ve got it. He talks, if we stop and listen about the weather and the town’s news, but his accent’s so thick, he shouldn’t bother, we can’t understand him. We toss him some coins whenever we go by and then laugh as we round the bend....
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Stalking the Fiddler Crab by Liz Shandor
Mockhorn Island is an Atlantic coastal barrier island on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. It is visible during low tide; however, much of the island is under water when the tide is high. The tidal changes make it tricky to take a motorized boat out to Mockhorn because it requires timing the trip with the tide or risking becoming stranded on a mud flat. The major vegetation is saltmarsh cordgrass...
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Web-Only: father By Olivia Williams
You’ve fallen under. Water slick as lies covers you; I see your beak—your nose, poor genetics? It stabs out, I recoil. Suddenly, you are flailing, beady brown-black eyes beseech God. You have no chance. Remember Judas? He forsakes people like you. Lazarus smirks—¬¬a devil’s smile, you think, his eyes watching you slip in, Moses reminds you. He pulls Lazarus away. If they do not believe. Your room...
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Endgame: Choose Your Own Adventure: College...
You’ve finally done it: gotten the heck out of high school and moved into the elite world of higher education. Well done. So what comes next? You’re suddenly in charge of your own decisions: scheduling, grades, and future. It’s a wicked limbo—but in some ways, everyone is going though the same thing. So, what can you do? Start living! English class begins at 8:30 AM. Gross. If you wake up early...
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Images of Love by Mike Kuethe
When it comes to love, I don’t know why poets can’t just say you and I. Instead they always try to convey that their love is like nature, in some artsy way. She must be a daffodil, a dove, or a doe, a rose, the sun, or a field full of snow. But in all honesty I don’t suppose, that anyone would aspire to be a rose. For what does a flower do all day but sit in a field or, at best, a bouquet? It...
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Untitled by Sarah Gumbel
Hit me, hard. It will do me good. When my face breaks open, and my skin spreads wide, my blood runs down, streaking the cold of this white room I’ll be content. I need you to hit me, hard.
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Walt Z by Emily Broderick
Whitman, I hardly know you, I admit, but I write to you. Would you have liked that? Grey-bearded grandfather, you are like a mentor, a guide, standing next to me on the riverbank holding Charon’s lantern and pole, pointing into the darkness with great excitement, waiting for me to see the beauty you’ve noticed for years.
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Alone in the Night by Mike Kuethe
You seemed concerned that I was walking alone; surprised when I said it’s a beautiful night. You did not hear the fog building over the fields, hiding me from the night, absorbing the light and casting it back against the sky. You did not see the dew, a gentle brushstroke by nature’s hand caused the canvas to glisten under the moon. You did not feel the chirping of a hundred thousand lives,...
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Heading to Downtown D.C. by Adam Church
Median Strip trees never die. A secret between you and I. Thoughts that kept us up every night. Vague attempts to be superhuman. Vague attempts to be a hero. For a world not looking for one. It comes to staring blankly in a screen. Melting our minds (Telepathic Napalm). Silently I Become empty, dull and dumb. The strongest drug in every living room. My God. My King. (My TV.) Outside of our comfort...
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A Scab by Adam Church
Digging away At the skin Holding within This sin Is there anything As funny As the Cigarette burns Optical insight Always lies Then again Those maggots in your eye Always turns to flies Tongues lap away At your sores And the infection God, it burns
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When the Water Engulfs by Emily Broderick
I’ve always wanted to tell you that as the water envelops me, like the cool hands of a mother on a fevered brow, I sing a love song to the beat of soft ripples my hands create as they gently slice the stillness. It’s always been a a love song to you, although I’ve never known you
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Apple a Day by Adam Church
Lithium keeps me balanced. Bupropion keeps me happy. Abilify keeps the scary side hidden. Benztropine keeps the cog wheels away. Lorazepem makes my anxieties bury into my skin. The consequence I am like you bland and mediocre Music heals me in ways these can’t Turn up the volume Doctor And watch my bad days fade
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That and a Tree, Growing up on an Evergreen Farm...
When I was seven years old, my parents opened the Woodbine Christmas Tree Farm, composed of a seven-acre plot on the border of Carroll County, Maryland. As a child, I would play in the fields until I knew them in the way we know intimate memories. Summers included firefly hunts and hide-and-seek, autumn was chilly walks and bonfires, winter was – and is – the selling season. The tree farm is more...
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Once Upon a Time: Re-gendering the Fairy Tale by...
Once upon a time, in the faraway land called Neutrova, there was a princess who went by the name Charlie. This princess was unlike any other princess in neighboring lands in many ways. Instead of wearing the latest fashions and finest crown jewels, she wore normal, everyday clothes, which usually included pants. Though these facts alone made Charlie a peculiar princess, there was one other action...
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“Baby, It’s Cold Outside” (songs that will make...
Hello. It’s getting to be that time of year. You know, that time of year thou mayst in me behold. The one with the yellow leaves (or none at all) that do hang upon those boughs shaking against the cold…or something like that. Anyway, as a person (or bear) who actually enjoys the colder months, I figured I’d spread some of my joy. That is, I want to share a small handful of sweet jams that...
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This is Not in the Holiday Spirit By Emily Kate...
I hate it when the sun goes down. It does it every day. I also hate stupid boys. Sadly, both are impossible to avoid. In the past few weeks, some friends and I have gone to Annapolis and Baltimore to celebrate birthdays, etc. I happened to notice the selection of excellent guys available to my friends and me. Though none of us actually wanted anything to do with the guys we happened upon, our...