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Issue 77
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Editor's Note
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POETRY
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FICTION
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ESSAY
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BOOK REVIEW
- David Rigsbee reviews The Moon Is Almost Full
by Chana Bloch
- David Rigsbee reviews The Moon Is Almost Full
Issue > Poetry
Tattoo
All night I leaped and spun
in the converted trolley factory
as if I were twenty again,
my body electric.
It was the ecstasy, of course,
but not only.
Everyone was beautiful,
twirling from ribbons in the air.
Pink hearts blinked in silver pockets.
My new friend urged me
to let the body artist have her way.
For a night, I was daring
and empathetic. Calligraphic lines
scrolled across my skin
like the script of a new language,
as if I could be
someone else.
All I had to do was to want it.
On Palmer Lake
In the shimmer, the heat,
we rowed into the lake,
languid—
we had days.
Green days. Green water.
Pre-Cambrian ferns. We cut
peat moss from the island—
thick and soft fatty flesh,
root nerves webbing wet
earth.
There is so much life—
it rises through death.
Beneath
the surface, an ancient carp
led the way—tail fin slapped,
sent ripples trailing through
choked weeds and water lilies,
off to where the heron winged
a broad blue arc—spindly
ascent—
once, then silent.
we rowed into the lake,
languid—
we had days.
Green days. Green water.
Pre-Cambrian ferns. We cut
peat moss from the island—
thick and soft fatty flesh,
root nerves webbing wet
earth.
There is so much life—
it rises through death.
Beneath
the surface, an ancient carp
led the way—tail fin slapped,
sent ripples trailing through
choked weeds and water lilies,
off to where the heron winged
a broad blue arc—spindly
ascent—
once, then silent.