“Boo”din: It Came from the Swamp, Oct ’22 Poetry Editor: Rachel Pittman Fiction Editor: Abbie Skinner Victoria de Benedicty, “Swamp Girl” (2022), oil paint and oil pastel Fiction “Dear Anonymous Cryptid Photographer” by William Hawkins “nothing to fear” by M. Caroline McMaulay “Summer Love” by Cassondra Windwalker Poetry “Feu-Follet” by…
Read MoreBoudin 2022 Editors: Michael Horner and Mayank Machanda Johanna Barbier, “A Strand,” digital SFX Fiction “Everybody’s Everybody” by Brady Achterberg “#CoronaLife” by Terena Elizabeth Bell “When Mama Was a Moth” by Nick Caccamo “HIGHWAY 111” by Matthieu Cailler “Upon Returning From a Leadership Convention in Hawaii, the Superintendent Addresses the…
Read MoreEverything Lynne Schmidt __________ A husband hears of his family’s death when their bodies make the front page of American newspapers. He recognizes their clothes, their luggage, before the jagged knife of realization sets in. And then he recognizes his wife, his daughter, his son, his dogs. He cries, “They…
Read MoreIt has been a decade ago
when we had our first dance.
In what took the semblance of,
crepuscular happenstance.
Dorsey Craft __________ My Football Team is Winning (III) And my granddaddy’s still dead. He swatsan almighty yellow jacket from a star-soakedcan of Coke while our tailgate moves fartherout on the asphalt grid. We’ve got a healthylead. We’ve got a blond quarterback with eyeslike the last two red salmon pouting…
Read MoreRaye Hendrix __________ At Toomer’s Corner, the Morning After the Iron Bowl (2019) In memory of Pat Sullivan An autumn sun, expected, rises;steals darkness from between the stars to illuminate the streets and avenues—College and Magnolia brilliant white with billowing paper, a southern substitutefor snow: live oaks cloaked from trunk…
Read Moreis it too tender to kiss? Hannah Rousselot __________ I.in the past, i always held my wounds outgaping and red, hoping someone would noticeand want to kiss me better. many tried, but none could re-knitmy skin, my heart, my brain togetherwith strands from their own body.i had to do it…
Read MoreWhat Fancied Her Rikki Santer __________ If a toilet seat can be a lyre& applause stored in a box then this is the story of a believer—your closet in the candy-colored language of clown—you witha pimiento center & comfortable as a sock, never ruffled or lacybut blooming in tie-dye spider…
Read MoreCourt Castaños __________ Burn Rising Yesterday, Blake asked me, what are you doingwith your hands today? I opened them, read:too clean, too dry. And remembered thesehands, just seven years old,aimed for his eye, glasses and all, sockedit red, puffed, like a burn rising.Blake Gollmer, my best friend, and his betrayal:an…
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