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  • A Charade

    A piece of paper Which appeared to be blank But on which we see Writing had faded. “My first is of the Possessive of those Given to possession. And my last, the finality Of that proposition. In entirety I give That which in three worlds doth live. Ungainly in the two; In all, long-legged beauty,…

  • Raccoon

    With his two hands     covering his two eyes         he prays in the middle of the road over the clump of fur and bone     that was himself.         He looks like my old zayde in the synagogue     two decades ago         ashamed for his poverty. Comedian of the hard frost,     deft…

  • Contributors’ Notes

    MASTHEAD Guest Editors Howard Norman & Jane Shore Editor Don Lee Poetry Editor David Daniel Associate Editor Susan Conley Assistant Fiction Editor Maryanne O'Hara Founding Editor DeWitt Henry Founding Publisher Peter O'Malley Editorial Assistants: Darla Bruno, Gregg Rosenblum, and Tom Herd. Poetry Readers: Paul Berg, Brian Scales, Michael Henry, Renee Rooks, Charlotte Pence, R. J….

  • Mr. Sweetly Indecent

    I meet my father in a restaurant. He knows why I have asked to meet him, but he swaggers in anyway. It’s a place near his office, and he hands out hellos all around as he makes his way over to my table. “My daughter,” he explains to the men who have begun to grin,…

  • The Dress

    It wasn’t lewd or revealing of anything round except my shoulders which Mother forever urged back with military brio, yellow—never my best color— a square of magenta for the bust, bought in the Village at mod, expensive Paraphernalia (what Grandpa called his bait and tackle; his paraphernalia). Did you know that store? Glossy white go-go…

  • A Day in the Future

    I n the future, everyone will be someone else. At her school, the future had been discussed as if it were a definite sort of business, with tangible boundaries like an island nation. It was a place you could rocket to or grope towards in a state of anticipation. But if thinking about your actual…