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- Declining Damage
- The Great Excavation
- coming out in no particular order
- This town; a breathing crocodile, is a sad town…
- My grandfather on a sandglass
- what the little girl meant to say when the long-haired journalist asked: where are you from?
- The man who wrote bad poetry
- The dilemma of a poem
- a poem you read from right to left
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- The Great Excavation eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2019/04/19/the… 18 hours ago
- coming out in no particular order eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2019/04/18/com… 1 day ago
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Category Archives: Fiction
I don’t have a name. At least, I haven’t found it yet. I spend most days trying on different ones, to see if they feel right on me. It’s “Margaret Ingvertsen” one day and “Piper Redding” the next. Sometimes I … Continue reading
At ten years old, Scooper lived life through his mouth. For him, most things weren’t real until he felt them on his tongue, awash in sticky saliva. Summer days he wandered his development alone, his cheeks fat with blocks of … Continue reading
She took the call when she recognized the number from 40 years of memory. It happened again. Stacy added the tears to a bucket of blackberries from seven years old until after she sent the email to her boss asking … Continue reading
I don’t like the sound at all. Especially when they seem to be getting closer. Because they are. Our house is on fire. Or at least we think so. Momma is moaning like Sneezy did when her calf got stuck and … Continue reading
“Did you ever have a childhood dream?” he asked us. My English teacher smiled and patrolled around the classroom, filled with a mix of immigrants, mostly Latin American. He probably thought I was too. He caught me resting my eyes. … Continue reading
Midnight. Wheels grinding against metal. Two people, inches apart, surrounded by a hundred others, sitting just a little further. She grabs the cotton covering his arm, pulls it over her neck, and nuzzles her own into his shoulder. His hand … Continue reading