G.C. Waldrep cathode lift: flock or arrow’s fletch: matutinal: in gothic sprawl: ablation murmurs: notched, the heart opposes: image: unction: Zeno’s proctored ogive: academy or tangent bone: suspended: within prayer’s diatonic flask: eloigned & carious: dry Caesar: un- hand these lithe bodies: bell- voiled:...
Keep reading...
~ a Journal of Literature and Art since 1971~
LINDEN HALL
Arg*OS
Joe Pan Odysseus Teaches One of His New Dogs to Say ‘I Love You’ Arrrr! O, arrrr! O, raw scar! How you ore our iron ire, ogre of Troy. Ere your errors, our ears were ewes wanting of your airy rouge arrows: we earned your eros, you yearned our Ayes, sir. Our whore hearts...
Keep reading...
Phoebe 42.2, Spring 2013
2013 Contest Winners Greg Grummer Poetry Award Judged by Dean Young Winner: Annie Christain, Villagers Chop Them in Half, Thinking They Are Snakes Runner-up: Maggie Millner, Squalls Winter Fiction Contest Judged by Ryan Call Winner: Ryan Habermeyer, The Foot Annual Creative Nonfiction Prize Judged by Marion Winik Winner: Deborah Thompson, The Last Séance Poetry Sarah...
Keep reading...
The Foot
Ryan Habermeyer Winner, Fiction Contest A foot had been uncovered from a sandbar the night after the solstice. Nobody was sure how long it had suffered there in anonymity as it had been found in the lonely sandbar a half-mile from the shore where insomniacs went to count waves. The first witnesses initially...
Keep reading...
Villagers Chop Them in Half, Thinking They Are Snakes
Annie Christain Winner, Greg Grummer Poetry Award "Come not between the Dragon and his wrath..." King Lear. Act I, Sc 2 "He thought the Beatles were witches flying on broomsticks from hell." – Dr. Phillip Joseph In a network of underground tunnels, I created white mono-atomic gold because I refused to sit around...
Keep reading...
The Last Séance
Deborah Thompson Winner, Nonfiction Contest I wrote down memories, detail upon detail, with shamanistic obsessiveness, before they slipped away, before he slipped away. I wasn’t trying to resurrect him, I told myself. I didn’t believe in magic, not even in the magic of words, conjuring presence out of an empty hat. *** In...
Keep reading...
SLIP
Sarah Cook music is just miles but longer the motion of a hand & another hand on a train the body constantly simulates theft the sound of which extends this plane beyond grip internal city/space bending/remote // any three sounds will make the hand close being empty is not simply nothing it...
Keep reading...
Happy Thanksgiving
George Morgan Scott Unnoticed by the prattling guests, little Toby, twitching with the terrible twos, climbs up on the stuffed chair, totters, catches his balance, reaches for the security system control panel. He giggles as he presses several keys with his chubby little fingers. An earsplitting whooping blasts the room. “Toby!” his mother...
Keep reading...
Great Blue
Emily Rinkema I wake up because my father is at the door. “Want to go fishing?” he whispers, and I know it must be too early for school, too early to be waking up. The light in the hall is on, but he has been careful to keep my door partly closed, just...
Keep reading...
Preconceptions, or Frontiers
Jacqueline Kolosov After two years of trying, my husband Tom and I began to seriously consider reproductive technologies to conceive a second child. “Do you think I could love another child as much as Mirabel?” I asked him. “Infinity divided by two is still infinity. Right, darling?” he said. The words bring to...
Keep reading...
