Tag Archives: Four Way Review

HOOK ECHOES by Kevin Heaton

Sunshowers spit-shined the shark’s
tooth that gutted Kansas’ only diamondback.

You were just a puff adder feigning rattles—
scavenging rat droppings with field mice
in bales of switchgrass.

I want tallgrass.

I want a thunder god with flashes of ego—

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THE DANGERS OF TIME TRAVEL by Gerardo Mena

You wake up in the future and realize that everyone has evolved.  People now have the head of a blue jay and the body of a shiny machine that whirs softly as its insides spin.  You see two bird heads that look like your parents, but, of course, that is not possible.

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MOLES by Matthew Haughton

Something had to be done about the moles;
labyrinths stretched from the garden
down to the hollow. Give moles an inch
and they’ll burrow up to your door.
So we dug holes in their paths and filled
them with old coffee cans. Bleary eyed,
dirty noses raised, down in the can
they’d be covered in silt like coal-miners

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BOY IN A FIELD by Shannon Elizabeth Hardwick

Boy in a field understand The lame
Hearted go to him mouth filled
Broken He brings the horses
Of his grandfather His hands wheat
Heavy I have seen him Monster himself
With river-sickness and a girl His mother
Maybe as a girl It is hard to say

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TOWN OF THE BELOVED by Allison Seay

We rested on a blanket by the water
where I combed the sand and spoke your name gently

You slept but I was not tired and never have I studied
the fullness of a back not even of the dying

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GOSSIP TOWN by Allison Seay

When Esther is pouting and knows I am bored with her
she asks if I am having one of my Days,
and I say What? meaning no, meaning yes

I am, and she says again and louder, “Are you having
one of your Days” and the word Days is like a string
of beads she pulls from her mouth,

a long accusatory sound (like feign or blame).

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CHIMERA by Vievee Francis

I have no charms. Admittedly.
No gold comb can move through
This mane. My skin is not translucent.
It is not soft. Mine is a tail to fear. I know.

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EPICUREAN by Vievee Francis

A hungry mouth, an empty mouth, insistent mouth,
mouth that would be filled by the seaweed of me,
that would crack the shell with a rock and take
its portion. The mouth gages its slide, gapes—
grotto mouth. Mouth where I might go to pray,
to fall upon my knees before. A mouth full of yes,

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GRINGO by Brandon Courtney

Wetback. Fence-jumper. My father’s heart fists
with its yearly dying as he recalls his hired hand—
a Hispanic—burying
our tractor to its axle in a soup of snowmelt
to men who, every morning,
sit half-mooned around the greasy spoon’s table,
lifting Styrofoam cups to sunburnt lips:

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JANUARY by Sara Uribe, translated by Toshiya Kamei

JANUARY

on the streets there are witnesses who swear they have seen me walk around certain places they say I live beyond the other side of the word that I have a garden where instead of flowers every night I sow oblivion but I don’t know them and don’t know if they lie or

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EDGE by Sara Uribe, translated by Toshiya Kamei

EDGE

on the edge of time I chant your name over and over again like a spell but everyone knows a word loses meaning if you repeat it many times a word is too fragile not without breaking not without tearing with the opposite blade of silence so my voice disappears

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ON THE SEPARATION OF ADAM AND EVE by Timothy Liu

It’s unknown when they were first
parted, only that they were painted
on panels by Goltzius circa
1611. Deprived of his companion
in paradise, Adam showed up in 2003
at a French auction and was sold
to a New York dealer, a branch
of hawthorn in our forefather’s hand

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