In advance of our upcoming spring print issue, be sure to check out not only the new prose and poetry, but also this essay by Mary Ruefle. Imagination In This Issue | Spring 2018 Mira Martin-Parker Mother’s Face Robert Vivian All The Rivers Of My Days Shoshana Lovett-Graff Latent […]
She covered her walls in post-punk flyers and ironic unicorn drawings in suggestive poses. In a “sexy yeti” costume she carved pumpkins in the basement and left the seeds and innards to dry on the floor.
A breeze blows through the window in the middle of the summer night. Jean-Michel, lying awake beside Brigitte, raises both hands, feels the air against his palms, closes his fingers into fists.
Every other Sunday night, dad manned the rudder while we rowed the one-eighth replica Viking ship east across the bay.
I meet my boss for lunch at Kaya Sushi House in Mar Vista. It’s not quite Venice Beach and not quite Culver City either, somewhere in between the two. I’m in a plaid skirt and a grey muscle tee with my leather jacket. I’m trying out the badass LA look, which I feel confident enough today to pull off.
Place built THE CONCRETE and the characters in it. The southeast side of Grand Rapids is the biggest villain in the book. It’s an area of drugs and violence, a place one must survive. While revising I was constantly looking for ways to use language to make it come alive …
Literary movements spark and evolve, ebb and flow together without ever warning the writer. By the time one knows what is new, all too often that new has already become old. Yet there is a sentiment emerging now, wondering aloud—though still quietly—
Personally, I blame the internet.
No peppermint candy filled stockings or pine scented candles to mask the smell of her mother’s Marlboro Lights. Boys crept into her window and fondled her pubis, twisted her tits.