I am the Plover that comes to stay but awhile, to feast from these fields and fly away fattened. It is true. I cannot settle. I
Debra Marquart
The human face evolved independently at least two different times, originally dying out with Homo antecessor some 800,000 years ago, while even our typical ancestors from
Most of what I owned I left in an alley and loved how quickly it was gone. ◊ I believed the earth would grow so tired
After Rebecca Lehmann In the first draft, I described a single flood that could’ve been a metaphor: I was 14 and sleeping while the water
Ricardo Luna sips a protein shake mourning a lost finger from the factory on the highway. 20,000 pigs a day. Hogs, what you sell. Pork, what
After the New York Times reported children cleaning slaughterhouses, I sit with Liz outside a plant in Marshall. Turkey trucks roll in, silently roll out. Smoking
On the sunny shores of Spirit Lake, a worker in shades lugs a black semi-automatic gun from his room, adjacent ours, to his cobalt Ford pick-up,
The Orange You are a middle planet neither mandarin nor navel, your surface pocked with tiny dimples, worlds of their own, home to star dust, space-mites,
The snapping turtle was dying on Lakeside Drive, webbed feet paddling the concrete—visceral instinct. Weed clotted embankment littered with cans, condoms and cigarettes, now impossibly out
The sky whales sulk in, singing rain. Woodpeckers rally for something alive in the lifting clapboard of the sinking house. A human bruises a hammer arrhythmically