Literary [The Preacher l Rountree how are you?’ And Richard says, ‘Great, what about yourself?’And the preach " says, ‘Can’t complain,’ and he looks over Richard’s head in search of his wife but he doesn’t see her so he looks at Richard and makes eye contact and asks him, ‘So how’s the volunteer... Show moreLiterary [The Preacher l Rountree how are you?’ And Richard says, ‘Great, what about yourself?’And the preach " says, ‘Can’t complain,’ and he looks over Richard’s head in search of his wife but he doesn’t see her so he looks at Richard and makes eye contact and asks him, ‘So how’s the volunteer thing going?’And Richard shrugs his big shall]- ders and says, ‘Eh, it’s not really what I expected, but it ain’t too bad.’ And the preacher looks past him again but this time not for his wife but instead a way out of the crowd and a way to disengage himself from Richard but there’s nothing and so he looks back to Richard and says, ‘Had any fires yet?’ And Richard draws his words out as he says ‘N-o, not yet, mostly just medical calls’ and the preacher keeps looking over his shoulder at the sanctuary doors and sticks his hands in his pockets and takes them back out again. He nods his he and smiles and extends his hand and says, ‘Well, it was good to see you Rich— ard,’ and he notices the slightly offended look on Richard’s face as their hands meet and Richard grips a little less firmly this time. And Richard says ‘Yeah, yo too, I guess I’ll see you next week.’ And the preacher says ‘Yep’ and moves on through the crowd with a smile on his face and he wishes his wife and kids would hurry up so they could leave and he could maybe get a little peace and quiet at the house. He slides through a gap between two men’s backs and feels of his button-up short-sleeve t-shirt and he turns and feels a flash of anger surge though him for having been tugged and startled like that, but quickly he smiles again and keeps smiling as Tony says, ‘I was callin’ for ya but ya just kep right on walkin’. Didn’ ya hear me?’And the preacher can’t stand Tony and he imagines his wife coming from behind and laying her slim hand on his bony shoulder and saying Let’s go, but she doesn’t and the preacher says, ‘No, no, I’m sorry. It’s so loud in here, I can’t hardly hear a thing.’ And Tony laughs apprecia tively and reassures the preacher ‘Nah, I’m jus’ messin’ with ya. But uh — I jus’ wanted ta say thet that was a mighty good sermon t’day an I’m glad ya taught it. And then he lowers his voice and moves his mouth like a mouse so that his thick tan mustache crinkles and the dents in his face stretch and he says, ‘Ya know, I really related ta all that stuff you was sayin’.’And the preacher takes on a look of concem and wishes Tony would hurry up and he can feel the impa- tience boiling inside him and he can’t stop looking around but he’s not sure why he’s looking around anymore since he’s got nothing to look for but he doe it anyway and finally Jeff says, ‘I been strugglin’ lately, ta be honest. I hatn’t bee sayin’ my prayers much as I ought to an I hatn’t been readin’ the Bible regerly, an’ I been feelin’ mighty awful: about it, but after what you saidI’In feelin’ a good bit better.’ And the preacher says ‘Good’ and then Tony cuts back in, ‘It’s jus’ good ta know that Jesus is gonna love me no matter how much I sin, ya 36 Show less
Literary] Rhythm] Siegfried - xygen masks in tow by nurses in blue scrubs and white shoes so full of life yet ' ‘dered by the walking masks of death they followed. Frank had barely noticed at in the still of the park, now at 9:04 on his golden wrist watch, the offices ere up to full steam, the... Show moreLiterary] Rhythm] Siegfried - xygen masks in tow by nurses in blue scrubs and white shoes so full of life yet ' ‘dered by the walking masks of death they followed. Frank had barely noticed at in the still of the park, now at 9:04 on his golden wrist watch, the offices ere up to full steam, the school bell had rung four minutes ago and again the k was empty. ’ At least it seemed that way, but there was something moving in the ,- ark. Frank saw it but heard no rhythm. Frank couldn’t hear anything as it ap- gfp‘roached along the rain-cleaned black asphalt. Frank wasn’t even sure what he seeing, he rubbed his glasses on his flannel shirt and squinted after replac- them. No sound was made, the figure was indistinguishable. It appeared to Shave no particular destination like the feet of the others, only it seemed to move cross grass and blacktop at an ominous speed, slowly, so slowly, as if blown nly by the wind it seemed to float right in his direction. He now began to real« whatever it was slowly sought him out; that this unyielding force came mov- g towards him, steadily. Frank thought he would move on and yield his bench for the day. He stayed in the park his usual time and perhaps this was another hflho ventured to the bench to watch the rest of the day march on at different irhythms. 73 Frank’s feet were willing but his heart was tired—gaining his feet roved impossible. Frank could now hear the rhythm of the approaching figure, ut it was not a steady rhythm of feet traversing the path. The rhythm reminded rank of an old grandfather clock in his parent’s house, the steadily swing- mg arm was a sound always in the background of his youth. The tic... tic... :fitic... approached slowly and seemed to slow further, leaving a longer interval (between each encroaching tic. Frank could only sit and watch its approach. At Frank thought the figure a man, but the unnatural sound it produced as it moved toward him made him wonder if he wasn’t mistaken; he had never seen anything float so smoothly over the landscape. He questioned whether “fit even had feet at all. At this point, Frank could hardly keep his eyes focused ,4 on the object moving slowly toward him. He was not sleepy, the cold breeze he felt blowing from behind the figure actually felt a relief to his usually tired ’ joints and muscles. Frank thought he could try one more time to move, to get up and away from something he now worried about and meant to avoid. The sfeeling was all too great though as Frank felt the approach he felt relieved as his thoughts and the pain in his heart and joints slunk off of him. Something was too nice about the breeze, something was nice about that slowing rhythm. _ He remembered his wife who had gone before him, she seemed so clear in his ’- mind’s eye he saw her as she was the first time they had met, dancing to a rendi- tion of “Night and Day.” Standing there in her red high-heels and skirt rolled ‘lat her waist, she was clearer than anything he had seen that morning. Frank saw 15 Show less
Literary | Mink l Sanow . smelled like raw meat. Something was in my stomach, vomit maybe, it was oving from my throat to my feet. It hurt. At the emergency room he didn’t we to wait, not like I did. There was only one other woman in the waiting a elia?”A nurse in mint green pants and aTweety... Show moreLiterary | Mink l Sanow . smelled like raw meat. Something was in my stomach, vomit maybe, it was oving from my throat to my feet. It hurt. At the emergency room he didn’t we to wait, not like I did. There was only one other woman in the waiting a elia?”A nurse in mint green pants and aTweety shirt was staring at the. “Raymond wants you.” My face burned red. “Ok,” I said and cast a look at the magazine lady who didn’t look up from a Kohler sink advertisment. The nurse led me into a completely white room.I realized how bad I smelled. My brown hair was shoved into a pony tail, my tennis shoes were three sizes too big. I had crusty cereal on my pale arm. I sat down next to Raymond and he took my hand. “Ok,” the nurse said. And , cut to get the doctor. The two of us sat in silence as the nurse and doctor put .stiches in his leg. Raymond squeezed my hand everytime it hurt. The nurse .would smile and nod at us after every stitch. By the time we were finished, he “had 21 stiches. I offered to drive him home and he gladly accepted. The only noise was the hum of the tires on the road.When we got to the gravel road his farm was > on he took a breath like he was going to say something. I tensed, but he re- ;'5.' mained quiet as the hum turned to bumping and jostling. . “I’m sorry,” he said in his driveway. I thought of all the times he had I promised to protect me, save me, pull me out of the slop. He had meat chunks Rein his hair when he kissed me, it tasted like turkey and fish. “I love you,” he said. ‘ ,'“Me too,”I said. It was the safest answer I could come up with. I got out of the _ ‘car and began the walk down the road back to my grandpa, to the mink, to the . one place in the whole world where I wouldn’t have to hear things I didn’t need ' to hear. : ' ‘ When I got back, I told my grandpa that I wouldn’t be back the next :day. He shook his head yes and went inside the old white farm house that ilooked foreign to me somehow. When I went inside moments later he was ' ._ watching the Weather Channel on the TV. I snuck into the bathroom and used the removable shower head to wash off my arm. I tried to fix my hair in the mir- 71‘01'. I looked at my lips, they were freckled and dry from the sun. I tried to forget ' the taste of turkey. Iwent back outside and breathed in the strangely still air. The sun had ' set beyond the train tracks and I realized I would need to call my parents or 5'; brother for a iide. My last ride home from work before I left for college. This thought was new, and unannounced: Raymond wasn’t there to drive me home. 59 Show less
Literary IThe Pen {Waterman The Pen Cary Waterman The pen is cousin to the young tree. Stalwart and blue, it reaches up to heaven through the crevasse of thumb and forefinger. You can roll it like a Havana cigar. On a dry, thirsty afternoon, it drinks absinthe ink, green tongue, green lips. Later... Show moreLiterary IThe Pen {Waterman The Pen Cary Waterman The pen is cousin to the young tree. Stalwart and blue, it reaches up to heaven through the crevasse of thumb and forefinger. You can roll it like a Havana cigar. On a dry, thirsty afternoon, it drinks absinthe ink, green tongue, green lips. Later in the violet light of dusk, what does it hear? Only the scratching of words, wanting to get out, like the scrabbling nails of mice at night climbing up inside the walls of a house where everyone sleeps unhearing, unknown. Show less
‘Table of Contents Seasons Past I Tricia waey The Pen I Cary Waterman A Love Letter IJoelEnrig/zt August, 1965 IEmilyHanson Rhythm I David Siegfiied Ballet I Genia VbiLse/clzooskaya Pompousness I I/Villiam Helm Only in Dreams I [Iii/cc Schroeder Abstract Map I Rebecca Reilly Dylan I Jessica... Show more‘Table of Contents Seasons Past I Tricia waey The Pen I Cary Waterman A Love Letter IJoelEnrig/zt August, 1965 IEmilyHanson Rhythm I David Siegfiied Ballet I Genia VbiLse/clzooskaya Pompousness I I/Villiam Helm Only in Dreams I [Iii/cc Schroeder Abstract Map I Rebecca Reilly Dylan I Jessica Roelofs Thank You I Ana Olson What’s on Your Mind? I Colin Irvine Mr. Freeze’s House I Yi‘icia Towey Hesitant Bowls of Granola [Erica Pascli/ce Three Fish I Andrea Lee Quist Beauty in Three Shades [Jason Je erson 57 Varieties I Erica Pasch/ce In the Soup ID.E. Green Prague House of Photography IEmilyHanson Windmill I Joe Brown The Preacher I Douglas Rountree Glasses I Jessica Roelofi Dr. Killinger Meets the Atom I Erica Pasclzlce Milwaukee I Yi'icia waey Motion I Tricia waey Process I I/Villiam Helm Dino Copy I Tricia Ewey _ What Animals Dream Of 1 and 2 Illli/ce Schroeder fl la mode de Kahlo: The Lovers I DE. Green Mink I Andrea Sanow The Photographer, Dublin, 1984 I Cary Waterman Show less
Literary [August, 1965 | Hanson August, 1965 Emily Hanson The yellow cab stopped in the middle of Watts. “Scoot on,” the driver said and In the midst of riots the dark brown haired man, With nothing but a guitar slung on his back, Walked the heart of a torn city subsection. .v I flew to California... Show moreLiterary [August, 1965 | Hanson August, 1965 Emily Hanson The yellow cab stopped in the middle of Watts. “Scoot on,” the driver said and In the midst of riots the dark brown haired man, With nothing but a guitar slung on his back, Walked the heart of a torn city subsection. .v I flew to California at eighteen Hailed a cab with little cash in tow “Only got eight dolla’s?!” the cabby said As the Chevrolet scuttled to a stop, “You in Watts, foo! Git outta my cab!” My father traveled to California In August of 1965, summoned a cab At the age of eighteen, “Fool, Don’t you know you’re inWatts!” He relayed to me in one story when I was young - All he had was a guitar in the midst of the riots. Show less
Literary [The Preacher I Bounties squints his eyes against it and he’s already nearly sweating underneath his shirt, A man waves to him as he walks by and he waves back-and another man with »\ his wife and kid waves to him and shouts his name and the preacher keeps . walking and waves back and... Show moreLiterary [The Preacher I Bounties squints his eyes against it and he’s already nearly sweating underneath his shirt, A man waves to him as he walks by and he waves back-and another man with »\ his wife and kid waves to him and shouts his name and the preacher keeps . walking and waves back and his wife shouts at the couple ‘Hello’ and then - says ‘Hello’ to a woman she knows and stops and the whole family is forced to ii “I, stop and the preacher stands there not listening and only hoping that no one approaches him and further delays him and once his wife is done talking they move on and then the preacher sees a man he knows sitting on a bench and looking at him and he waves and says ‘Hey Allen’ and Allen says ‘Hcy Preach’ and they walk past him and into the parking lot. The sun coming 01*" the cars is very hot and there is no wind.The preacher unlocks the car and his wife gets in the passenger seat and his kids get in the back seat and when he sits in ' .‘ the driver’s seat its leather burns his back and bottom and the steering wheel ‘ L burns his hands and he starts the car and lets it sit until the air-conditioner is working and already his back is sweating but he leans into the seat anyways and r sighs and wipes the sweat from 'his brow and wipes it on his jeans. ‘Long day,’ ’ his wife says more than asks. ‘Yes,’ he says, and pulls into the parking lot traffic. The car is silent until a man outside motions for him to roll down his window. The preacher rolls down his window and looks at the sweat on the man’s fore- head and feels the need to either inform the man or wipe it off for him and he smiles and says, ‘Hey Jerry, what’s going on?’ Jerry looks over the line of traffic and then back at the preacher and runs the back of his hand over his‘forehead and says ‘A little hot out here’ and wipes the back of his hand on his jeans and says ‘Hey, I was just wonderin’ if you could do me a favor?’ ‘Yeah, of course,’ the preacher says, eyeing the car in front of him as it moves further away. Beth shifts in her seat. Jerry rests his arms on the window ledge and the preacher can smell his sweat and he says in a quiet voice, ‘Could you pray for my daughter Alicia? She’s going through a really hard time right now.’ ‘Yeah,’ the preacher says, ‘ab solutely. Anything in specific?’ he asks as he eyes the moving traffic and drums on the steering wheel and feels the weight of holding up the line grow steadily stronger inside him as though it’s actually pressing at his back. Jerry sighs and looks at the cars behind him and looks back at the preacher and says in a very low voice, ‘Could you just pray that God give her guidance and help her make the right decisions? She’s fallen in widi a kind of bad crowd...’The preacher nods seriously and says ‘Yes, absolutely I will.’ ‘Thanks,’ Jerry says with a weak smile and steps back from the car. ‘Alright, I’ll let ya go so ya don’t have to hold ‘ up traffic anymore.’The preacher releases the brakes and says ‘See you later Jer- ry’ as his car rolls forward. After he’s rolled up his window and a brief silence * has filled the car, Beth says, ‘I heard she was doing drugs.’ The preacher glances back at the kids through the rearview mirror and sees that they are preoccu- 38 Show less
Literary I In the Soup | Green In the Soup DE. Green It’s hot, like cream of chicken soup, the dill so strong the aroma dizzies the senses. We swim before we swim, wade through air, through clouds of vapor, surprised to see through the fog that settles its perspiration on bare arms and brows. We... Show moreLiterary I In the Soup | Green In the Soup DE. Green It’s hot, like cream of chicken soup, the dill so strong the aroma dizzies the senses. We swim before we swim, wade through air, through clouds of vapor, surprised to see through the fog that settles its perspiration on bare arms and brows. We are melting, the whole globe is melting— from tundra to New Orleans to southern cliffs of ice, the penguin cities of our imagination. As we expire, we turn on each other, water the earth with the blood of brothers and sisters—~red scab harder than death. The sun is beating down. We are beating down our other selves. We kill ourselves by killing others. We shuffle our corpses across this desert wound. Sometimes at dusk, fleeting sanity returns amid the blue and pink~the beauty we have tasted, the scent of peace on a summer breeze. Show less
Literary l Mink 1 Sanow worried about dehydration and heat stroke. The gloves would hang on my skin like rotten banana peels. They smelled like sweat even if I wasn’t sweating; the gloves had been wom by men and workers before I was even born. In the first week of the June, the babies were born.... Show moreLiterary l Mink 1 Sanow worried about dehydration and heat stroke. The gloves would hang on my skin like rotten banana peels. They smelled like sweat even if I wasn’t sweating; the gloves had been wom by men and workers before I was even born. In the first week of the June, the babies were born. They were small, the size of my hand. I had been warned to stay away from them in the first week so they could get to know their surroundings. “They’ll bite you hard,” my grandpa said one day when I peeked my head around the corner of the shed where the females were housed. A day later, when I was at the same shed, Raymond ap- peared. “Come on,” Raymond said, flicking his brown hair out of his face. “Do they bite?” I asked and checked my back pocket for my slingshot. “No. They don’t have teeth,” he said and walked to the second cage on the right. Row B. “Yes they do,” I had yet to figure out if Raymond was fearless or stupid. His smile did not suggest that he was restless. _ “I won’t let them bite you,” the left side of his mouth twisted into a smile and the right side hung a little lower. “Promise?” ’ “Always,” he said and slipped a board inbetween a mother and her babies, she hissed and scuttled past the board to the other side of the cage. The babies pooped and it fell through the wire cage. “Go on,” he said. His slender fingers were turning white as the mink thrashed against the board. I stuck my hand in the cage without a glove. The babies fell over each other to get to the back of the cage. “What the hell!?” my grandpa said as he approached us fast, his gray hair being blown back by the wind or the speed that he was walking; I couldn’t tell. “Well,” he said in his bellering voice. “That’s what you two can do then; get some gloves.” My new job was to “excersize” the babies. Raymond separated them from their mothers so they wouldn’t be tortured and killed when we came near r 7 the cages. If their pelts were ruined they would be worthless. I would 'stand on the other side of the shed as he poked at the mother with a stick. She would moan and hiss until she was on the other side of the cage, Raymond would put a piece of wood in between the mother and her young. Then, I would take the babies out one by one and let them crawl up my arm. When they got too close to my face, I would pick them off of my upper arm and place them back in my palm. I named them the names of my friends from school during this rountine: Ashley, Melissa, Chrissy. They were so harmless when they were small. The only other job Iwas allowed to do was mix the food. I was too small to wash the machines or paint the word MINK in white letters on the roof of the 54 Show less
Literary |The Preacher | Roumrec ‘Hi, how are you?’ with a smile and a firm handshake, ‘I’m doing great. I meat sermon. I don’t see how you come up with all that stuff,’ and a laugh. i deturning the laugh, ‘Sometimes I don’t either,’ and another laugh and a pat on - fife shoulder and, ‘Good to see... Show moreLiterary |The Preacher | Roumrec ‘Hi, how are you?’ with a smile and a firm handshake, ‘I’m doing great. I meat sermon. I don’t see how you come up with all that stuff,’ and a laugh. i deturning the laugh, ‘Sometimes I don’t either,’ and another laugh and a pat on - fife shoulder and, ‘Good to see you, John.’ And John says, ‘Hey, you too,’ and Ellen they part ways and as soon as he turns another face amongst the crowd at him and a hand is extended and met by the preacher and the preacher gays, ‘Ruth, how are you!” And Ruth holds her smile with her neck craned up to ” eet his eyes and her purse draped over her shoulder and she tugs her Sunday | . $5 with the flowers on it and says, ‘I’m good. Wow, I loved your sermon today, y powerful,’ and she shakes her head as she says this and furrows her ‘ feyebrows and she stares up at the preacher and waits for his response. The . reacher smiles and nods and says ‘Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. Hey, g ow are the kids doing? I heard Paul played in a soccer game last night.’ And V, luth smiles and nods and with her pretty white teeth showing she says, ‘He did, e did, yeah.’ And the preacher asks her how he did and she says ‘He scored * We goals but his team ended up losing the game,’ and the preacher shrugs and ' ays, ‘Well you can’t win them all.’ Ruth shakes her head and says, ‘No, I guess iot. So how’s your little boy and girl?’ And the preacher looks out over the obby and sees more unfamiliar than familiar faces and he wonders if his wife .' [as left the sanctuary yet or if she’s still talking to her friends and he suppresses laugh because he knows the kids hate it when she does that and then he looks f [own at Ruth and for a moment he’s forgotten her question and then it comes lack to him and he says, ‘Benjamin is doing good, he’s having a little trouble in ' chool though,’ and Ruth says, ‘Aww, how come?’ And the preacher looks back . )ver the crowd and then back at Ruth and he scratches his arm and says, ‘His grades haven’t been so good lately He says it’s the teacher’s fault, but...’ And ' Ruth laughs with him and he says, ‘But Katherine is doing very well, she’s been )racticing for the school’s talent show,’ and again Ruth catches his wandering ’1: 3yes and thinks he is done and says, ‘Oh, wow, so what’s she gonna do?’ And the '7' )reacher says with a big smile, ‘The hula-hoop,’ and they both laugh and then he preacher extends his hand and says, ‘Well, it was good seeing you Ruth, iave a good day,’ and Ruth says ‘You too’ and they part ways. He wedges himself ; aetween a few people and hears someone call his name but he ignores the . aerson and keeps moving and then a large man with a big belly and a red ': :nustache steps in front of him and sticks out his hand and they shake and the ; big man squeezes so hard that the preacher can feel his skin folding and he flexes his hand as soon as it’s free and with a smile on his face he says, ‘Richard, 35 Show less
Literary | Kahlo | Green A [a mode de Kahlo: The Lovers DE. Green Is that a dead hummingbird on your necklace of thorns or are you just Frida Kahlo? Am I supposed to put my Diego on ice, to see the real you I behind the peasant mask and striking poses? , 3 Sometimes love feels like incest, we get... Show moreLiterary | Kahlo | Green A [a mode de Kahlo: The Lovers DE. Green Is that a dead hummingbird on your necklace of thorns or are you just Frida Kahlo? Am I supposed to put my Diego on ice, to see the real you I behind the peasant mask and striking poses? , 3 Sometimes love feels like incest, we get so close we merge, like the Cyclops eye I see when love-making brings us face to face. What is a gay man doing in a lesbian 3: bed? we’ve wondere an yet found no hearth nor home in other arms. Oh, we do imagine others’ lips and sheets, phantom romance, the kind the airport novels offer, all heaving bosoms and protruding packets. But we still fly home, fall into the familiar indentations, and move our fingers along the old wellShow less
