(Falcataria moluccana)
by Emily A. Benton
It’s true, I will
grow anywhere.
My mother
could attest.
(Falcataria moluccana)
by Emily A. Benton
It’s true, I will
grow anywhere.
My mother
could attest.
Filed under Poetry
by John Coyne
In the final days of our in-country Peace Corps training in Ethiopia, we had a
celebration dinner at the Guenet Hotel in the Populari section of the capital, Addis Ababa.
The Guenet Hotel, even in 1962, was one of the older hotels in Addis Ababa. It wasn’t in the center of town, but south of Smuts Street and down the hill from Mexico Square, several miles from where we were housed in the dormitories of Haile Selassie I University. While out of the way, this small, two-story rambling hotel, nevertheless, had a two-lane, American-style bowling alley; tennis courts; and most surprising of all, an African lion in its lush, tropical gardens.
Filed under Nonfiction
by Matthew Schmidt
ate a gigantic rat with a tail
long as his body.
belched loud as his rattle.
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Filed under Poetry
by Craig Cotter
Tapped him on the shoulder and handed him
my chewed grape gum—
he didn’t smile,
looked in my eyes,
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Filed under Poetry
by Paula Goldman
having sex.
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