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Joe Cottonwood | If you grow old, it is your own fault

“If you grow old, it is your own fault,” I say to Terry as we climb the mountain behind his cabin. Terry is wearing a device that transmits his heartbeat by cell phone to doctors at Stanford. Terry has a flutter, nothing serious, probably. Terry has a great heart, actually, something serious, warm and wise. We ascend this hill on Tuesdays every week discussing poetry and plumbing, our twin passions: […]

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Nina Dauban | Midwifery of the future

If you have fallen in love with playing your part as an agent of change If you have courted that destiny to make yourself fit to serve If you are married to the mission without compromise If you have consummated that communion with others of kind Then you will be pregnant with the future and in need of midwifery If your willing readiness is wobbled by the occasional glimpse of […]

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Laura Madeline Wiseman | Selected poems

If We Ride the Road First Thing, Then We Debate Until the Blue say it’s what fell from a volcanic explosion that launched fire into the air, how allies and enemies stood together on crags to witness the smoldering ash that would record a civilization by fresco. Say it’s evidence of a deeper wound, a test that was failed, an obstacle that shouldn’t’ve been passed, like some of our own—the […]

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Janet Reed | Human makeover and other poems

Human Makeover We begin with parts of speech: is, am, was, were, the liminal spaces — points of entry like piers on the Mississippi, the subject of river, the object of mud one noun dependent on the other’s object. How is it that mud inhibits progress? The condition or state of being in -ly terms, hungrily, dangerously, sadly, perfectly? Is it predicate or predicament, the difference between mire and sail– […]

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