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Chera Hammons used to work in accounting but now views poetry as the most satisfying way to balance abstract equations. She lives and gardens in Amarillo, Texas, where the wind, bugs, and birds all but guarantee that she receives little reward for her work. Her latest book of poetry is Maps of Injury.
The curve-billed thrasher digs the small purple potatoes / from the raised garden beds and ruins them. / He sets them back into the hollows in which they grew, / each speared neatly once through the heart.
June 2023The mare saw two of her herdmates die when she was captured. One, an exhausted gray stallion, fell and broke his neck in the trailer; the other, a chestnut foal, only weeks old, was chased until its leg fractured, and it had to be euthanized. That was the first this mare knew of our kind. Of our kindness.
April 2020Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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