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- X23Eping on Hangin’ Out at the Git and Go, poetry by Jason Ryberg
- John A Jancewicz on The Hills are Alive, essay by Anna Lea Jancewicz
- JBird on Tin Pedals, fiction by Lucas Flatt
- Jim J Wilsky on Everything is Relative, fiction by Michael Bracken
- LINDA MCQUARRIE-BOWERMAN on Two Poems, by Matthew Borczon
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Tipping the Jug*, poem by GC Smith
Rednecks and blackmen old buddies and friends will stand now together with a clay jug of corn they'll drink to their health and comfort each other with lies and comfort each other with lies They'll talk of their dogs and the ducks that they've … Continue reading
The Hills are Alive, essay by Anna Lea Jancewicz
Yeah, everybody has a dead grandmother story. They’re not sexy and nobody’s buying. But this story is mine, and it’s not so much about the woman as it is about the place. I’m from a little coal town, McAdoo, in … Continue reading
Where to Buy Your Weed, fiction by Misty Skaggs
Her trailer was a ripe patch of excess, bloomed conspicuously at the base of a cliff on the edge of a bone dry, Baptist county in East Kentucky. The half-acre around it was littered with faded Mountain Dew cans glinting … Continue reading
Uncles Charlie Loves You, poem by Misty Skaggs
I remember tired, washed-out women warning us young’uns with his name — “Uncle Charlie’s gonna come, gonna come all the way out here and get you." I remember we believed it. I remember the good ol’ boys rounding up a posse fueled by boredom and Pabst Blue Ribbon … Continue reading
Lock No. 10, essay by Megan Lewis
Parker and he went out to the lock. He drove fast down dark roads. Roads that remember us still. He parked. Next to the historical marker— I think. We stumbled through a starless night, right down to the water. Right down … Continue reading
A Happy Ending by Murray Dunlap
“How are you doing, Ben?” The camera man crunches down to take advantage of a better upshot. “Well, I’d tell you, but there is a stranger in my house who seems to be filming us,” I say with sincere astonishment. … Continue reading
Making Art, poem by Tim Peeler
Making Art He down shifted the Opal from third to second As they approached the intersection of Hooker Road And Arlington Blvd, swiveling his neck in an instant Assessment as they sped on through the red light. You crazy son of a bitch, … Continue reading
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A Wave of the Burger, by Dale Wisely
I'm in my patrol car and I gesture to let a big guy, dusted with white paint, make a left in front of me. He's driving an old pickup burdened by ladders. There is a thick layer of debris on the dashboard. Cigarette packs, … Continue reading
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Two Poems, by Larry Thacker
I swim the vacuum between your atoms sing along the dark mattered strands between galaxies beyond imagination witnessing the base pattern of all worlds the mystery scripts hanging ornamented about your thoughts I hum under your feet within the valleys of fingerprint ridges shrinking, … Continue reading
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