Fred Skolnik/Fiction

BASIC FORMS: A PROLOGUE   Each thing, insofar as it is in itself, endeavors to persevere in its own being. ─ Spinoza Now we know the language, and we're fluent in it. ─ Philip Glass   The following is Chapter 1 of "Basic Forms," the latest novel by Fred...

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Richard Kostelanetz/APHORISMS

•••   About the poet: Citing Britannica.com, Richard Kostelanetz is an "American writer, artist, critic, and editor of the avant-garde who is productive in many fields."  Kostelanetz attended Brown University (B.A., 1962), Columbia University (M.A., 1966), and...

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Larry Smith/Fiction

Larry Smith/Fiction

Unhappy people are America’s new underclass. You run into some guy on the street who’s just been fired from his job and has a family to worry about, and when you ask how he’s doing, he’ll say “I’m doing just great, just great. Busier now than ever.” He’s not ashamed that he was canned; he’s only ashamed if people think he’s worse off for it, because that would make him a second-class citizen…

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Then and Now/Steve Poleskie

Then and Now/Steve Poleskie

The word “boy” stings. I realize he has purposely chosen the word to convey the feeling of how it must have sounded to generations of black men. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything, really. I was visiting a friend in the Peace Corps and now I’m going home.”  I have said the wrong thing again. After two weeks in the country I am aware that most people here are not too fond of Peace Corps Volunteers. Most Sierra Leonese think of them as American spies.

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Steven Masterson/Fiction

Steven Masterson/Fiction

Lucy pulled her arms down his thighs until her hands reached his knees and pushed herself to her feet. Picking up her bag, she walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She didn’t worry about Jonnie stealing anything—he was a nice guy, better than most—but she went nowhere without the bag. She pulled out her needle and spoon, panicked until she found the smack. Sitting on the edge of the old cast-iron tub, she cooked and shot. She let herself lean on the drug; no more panic, no more craving. Lucy didn’t get high—she got normal. As normal as she could…

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In Memoriam: Camilla Sohar

    Only if... A Poetry of Loss and Remembrance Poems by Paul Sohar   When Camilla passed away last spring at the age of 50 due to a medical accident, her family and many friends were shocked,...

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Young Poets of Oneonta

Prompts and New Voices n the autumn semester of 2018, in my creative writing course at SUNY Oneonta, my students endeavored to write “thematically linked” poems. We read Adele Kenny’s “A Lightness, A Thirst,...

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Evan Mantyk/Interview

Evan Mantyk/Interview

The Society of Classical Poets is dedicated to the proliferation of classical poetry. What does that mean? It means poetry usually with rhyme and/or meter. It also means poetry of good character that puts the reader first, not the poet. The government’s “Survey on National Participation in the Arts,” found, over the last twenty years or so, a sharp decline in the number of people who had read or listened to a poem within the last 12 months while other literary forms stayed static…

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Real Life/Poetry Review

Taking the Temperature of the 21st Century Climate 6x9 Paperback 232 Pages Published by Omnidawn, 2018 ISBN-10: 1632430576 ISBN-13: 978-1632430571 Price: $14.62 on Amazon   Review by Emily Vogel Poetry Editor [dropcap style="font-size: 46px;...

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Perle Besserman/Fiction

Perle Besserman/Fiction

Karin doesn’t like Carl’s best friend Benjy, and she doesn’t want to join them in a game of poker, but she doesn’t say so because Benjy (who has come to live with them after being thrown out of his apartment two months ago by his second wife) keeps threatening to kill himself…

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Yoshiro Takayasu/Fiction

Yoshiro Takayasu/Fiction

A few days later, Kiiko said, “Say, what about the story of a woman who makes a bet whether her husband will cheat on her? A friend of hers who bets against her seduces her husband in order to win the bet. It will make you anxious watching him almost succumb to temptation. In the end, he goes back to his wife, and they live happily ever after.”

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Alan Swyer/Fiction

  Kindred Spirits   by Alan Swyer now what's amazing?" Ross said as he and Gelber wolfed down an early morning feast of dumplings and porridge at a dim sum joint in New York's Chinatown.  "It's...

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Richard Kostelanetz/Fiction

??????   ANSWERS A Cycle of Short-Short Stories Richard Kostelanetz In memory of Novalis [For periodical, print continuously with extra space between entries; if a book, one to a page; wide (Latin?), paginated landscape; so far 94. Resequence to move from cliché...

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J. T. Ledbetter/Poetry

a time like this after they carried things home and pulled the corn wagon out of the frozen ruts they turned the cows into the pasture and filled the oat bags for horses then went to the house where women were wringing out bloody cloths and emptying the rest down the...

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Marc Darnell/Poetry

Calcium Phosphate Some choose the wind so they can go all the places their body never went alive. Others choose mixture with cement, as a rock at the ocean's bottom to be part of the big whole, or crushed into a diamond to be prettier than the sack they were in life....

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Emily Vogel/Book Review

The Infinite Doctrine of Water by Michael T. Young Series: Terrapin Poetry Paperback: 96 pages Publisher: Terrapin Books (April 1, 2018) Language: English ISBN-10: 1947896016 ISBN-13: 978-1947896017 $5.99 Kindle/$12.99 Paperback from AMAZON   Review by Emily...

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Cynthia McVay/Creative Nonfiction

The first time I saw Field Farm it was the dead of winter, snowless and charmless, but even so, something about the soft curves of the land and open space captivated me. As the realtor fumbled for the key to the modest house, with thick plastic tacked to its windows, I turned to look over the short-cropped, amber field, unfazed by the fierce wind that came from all directions at once. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and head, and stuffed my bare hands into my coat pockets. My shoulders lifted to my ears to close out the cold. I could barely hear the realtor’s answer when I announced I was going there. And then the wind swept me out into the land.

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