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Poetry
… from paper to paper. A tack never Reflects, a tack doesn’t die for truth, Expressing crisis at every new job. Maybe we … wind, song me, Move me where you will, to edge, to roots. O compass in my mouth, take me to Noon, the summer, and send … me from the cold, turn me back to August, those nights I studied the celestial. * Why is writing about her odd? Evening …
… Despite, or should I say notwithstanding, the recent compaign to write certain contracts in plain English, the … more than courtroom mysteries or novels focusing on obscure points of law because they promise to give us the life of … Stanford Law Review article, has all the necessary ingredients for compelling drama. For the drama to emerge, the …
Fine Distinctions
… about animals and their ways. Those stories had sharp points. Aristotle credits Aesop with defending a corrupt … They no longer bother me. Remove them, and fresh fleas will come.” In other words: Oust the politician, and another will … that last bit never really works: We brave dangers, and we die. We tell our stories, and we pass on. But the stories …
Editor's Desk
… and the world at large. Though rooted in the South and committed to elevating the region’s writers to a broader … a publication that blends in among the literary journals of its time, but with an editorial vision that aims for … yellowed daydreaming paper plane—for a magazine that embodies the Jeffersonian principle of nurturing well-rounded …
Poetry
… Basking, beheading. The worship. When does it become real The things you say in bed? It’s always true, he …
… her leg, the withering of her flesh under the cast. She readied herself for the time she would have to step down to … She dreamed herself as the stone she carried, having come from a volcano as fire, and having been once, eons … on the cliff, heard in its call Ray’s whisper before he died when he had lain under the heavy body of the pickup and …