Issue 111 / Spring 2012
STORIES Reema Rajbanshi Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughter Katherine Scott Nelson Rita in Love John Brantingham Let Us All Pray Now to Our Own Strange Gods Christopher K. Miller The Loneliness from Which Love Springs Jennifer Wortman Median Brandon Patterson Symphony for the Ruined World Julialicia Case People of Substance Marian Crotty Crazy for You Claudia Putnam Hangfire Stephanie Coyne DeGhett Pescatore’s Contest Andrew Hoffmann The Vanishing Bourgeoisie Patricia Stiles Infirmities Amanda Bennett Extractions
POEMS Keith Alexander Museum Pieces Amy Eisner Welcome to the Cloud Alan Catlin The aliens M. J. Kledzik Tuscany Tourist Michael Poage Grapska Michael Homolka Junior Year Abroad Marc Berman Moving Day Ken Holland Migration Brandi George Father Teaches Me How to Kill a Man John Hazard Why Fairy Tales Are Gothic Brady Rhoades A Parade in Galway Mitchell Untch A Nightingale’s Ode Richard T. Rauch Cross-Point Bill Edmondson Goodbye Red-Eyed Monkey
ESSAYS AND MEMOIRS
Geoffrey Babbitt Island of Apollonian Light and the Golden Spring Erin Pushman Intercourse, Recall Virginia A.K. Moran Forgive Us Our Skins: Reflections on Humanity, Mortality, and Small, Plastic Food-Storage Containers
From the editor’s desk (excerpt)
Does the truth matter?
Can we know the truth, and if so, how can we come to know it and how can we know we know it? Can we share the truth with others, assuming we possess it, or are we all trapped in the solitary confinement of our own minds, incapable of communicating through language or sharing our perspective with anyone else? Can we achieve truth by telling lies? Are lies better than truth in describing reality? If we dislike the bald-facedness of lies, is “truthiness” just as good, in fact, as truth?
Does truth lie bleeding in the streets?
I am moved to ask these questions because of a constellation of things I’ve been reading about, all of which are disturbing signs that truth, like the many species of birds, amphibians, and mammals experiencing spectacular “die-off” (the phrase suggests that human agency is not involved), may increasingly be endangered. . . . .
glides along the route of his reflection.
He’s attentive, takes his time
The slow ascending sweep of their torsos,
The measured declivity of their glide.