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How do you know when it’s time to take your autistic, bipolar twelve-year-old daughter to the psych ward? (They call them “behavioral units” now.) Is it when you find yourself sitting on her back and holding her arms to the ground while your wife lies on her legs? When she head-butts you the first time? The fifth? When she spits in your face?
By Edward BradshawMarch 2017We lived in a place between mountains in the trout lands. The fish dwelt in the chill of eternal movement, slick and lithe and beautiful, in the curve of sapphire rivers twinkling with western sun. This was why we’d moved to Montana when I was a boy — to chase fish, in the church of my father’s religion.
By Sean P. SmithMarch 2017We run so fast these letters should be slanted, fastest at dusk when our breaths burn hot coals, sweat soaking our T-shirts, sneakers slapping pavement
By Jim DanielsFebruary 2017When I slip beneath the quilt and fold into / your warmth, I think we are like the pages / of a love letter
By Ellen BassFebruary 2017The young couple and their two small sons / Drive from the city to pay for and take the keys / To my old family Volvo — a car, like a house, / Full of memories, full of departures and returns.
By Karen WhalleyFebruary 2017February 2017There is no greater impotence in all the world like knowing you are right and that the wave of the world is wrong, yet the wave crashes upon you.
Norman Mailer
A bride’s lament, a smoker’s remorse, a swingers’ resort
By Our ReadersFebruary 2017Let America be America again. / Let it be the dream it used to be. / Let it be the pioneer on the plain / Seeking a home where he himself is free.
By Langston HughesFebruary 2017— from “Too Busy” | Have ambition and ego ruined my life? / Where have my easy days gone?
By David BudbillFebruary 2017Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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