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Amber Dawn Literature Poetry

Unnamed Service Road

It’s 2:56 and you are awake. The pulse under your jaw throbs. Carotid arteries throng your brain. The senses reside here, below your jawline, so does speech. You say “service” aloud like a wish. Go to the road, again. Go. It’s 3:12 and you are awake. You paddle your feet under the covers. Your...

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Cale Plett Literature Poetry


Begin by noting that there’s no path to      the other side of rain.The only way is perpetually through.      A bicycle on two wheels forthe first time. At the viewing, only the mourners       keep the...

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Fiction Literature Ryan Thomas Riddle

Wild Hearts Run Outta Time

You ever listened to Roy Orbison? That voice. That fucking voice. Cuts deep into you, slicing you bit by bit. Until you’re just chunks of meaty, exposed flesh on the ground. All that remains is the pain you had before you started listening to one of his songs. Been listening to him a lot lately...

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Lee Thomas Literature Poetry

[nectar names] / [white stripe]

seafoam sours beneath my tongue spills over in the speaking of a name a tide in my throat, a surge of syllables the gravity of the words i swallow turns my body inside out tears my teeth from my mouth. secrets dissolve in my mouth drops of nectar spear my tongue to my jaw, i speak without saying...

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Literature Maureen Hynes Poetry

The Juggler

After the painting, The Juggler, by Spanish surrealist, Remedios Varo (1908-1963) Yesterday a great many pellets of graupel shot out of the low grey sky— bouncing ice-balls! Spring’s thunderous shout muffled by its cloudy facemask. We have been too knotted into death counts & pollen counts...

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