By Tyree Daye
The fields of Rolesville belong to my kinfolk, dead and alive.
By Mark Wunderlich
I moved into the haunted houseand gutted it to the bones. I wasn’t alone then,
and worked there as a team. We evicted squirrels from their vast nutshell nest,
filled dumpsters with fifty years of trash.
By Iliana Rocha
Crooked red fingers of stretchmark on her hips, dough Isabel kneads back into hips, magnolias in her hair, blossoming hips