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My chest, which was beginning to grow round in the wrong places, had to be hidden under a T-shirt no matter how hot or sweaty I became. Out in the desert I had to squat behind the cover of creosote bushes to pee. At home in my family’s Airstream I was my parents’ youngest daughter, but up in the paloverde I felt like one of the boys.
By Zoë BossiereAugust 2022Most days I stick to the periphery — / produce and eggs and chicken and cheese — / but tonight I am buying peanut butter, / which here is inexplicably placed / with the popcorn and chips.
By Caleb NolenAugust 2022I felt a flash of hope for you, even though I knew — because of the distant and resigned tone of your voice — that you were going to die soon.
By John Paul ScottoApril 2022At Woodstock, at a school in Nepal, at an all-ages punk show
By Our ReadersApril 2022It was true what Mrs. Berry said: no one expected to see an old woman in a muscle car, a red and black Mustang convertible with a scooped hood and an engine that ran with a throaty hum.
By John FultonApril 2022Man who once was a boy on a strawberry farm in Ponchatoula. / Man who pulled me onto his lap in front of his friends, / played my spine like a fiddle. / The notes were off beat, / off-key, a collection of minor chords in my teenage heart.
By Megan J. ArlettMarch 2022I’d never been taught how to say no to an adult — nor even to consider the possibility that it might be necessary to do so.
By Mark BrazaitisMarch 2022Drugs can make us do stupid things — though, to be fair, drugs can also help us meet formidable demands. Meth can make you work hard as hell, the way my mom did, doing a full-time job at a farm-equipment company on weekdays and part-time retail jobs on weekends, until it all came crashing down.
By Jonathan Winston JonesJanuary 2022Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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