Splinter People by Kelly Stoldt My mother has announced her worry That living in a single dorm room is bad for me. She asks if I’ve been socializing If I’ve made friends Leaves out “since the last time.” I tell her I’ve gotten really close with my mattress (It goes by many names and I… More Slam at the Benton: “Splinter People” by Kelly Stoldt (2017)
The Anthem by Mary Kozan i. The bungalow colony was in its heydey. Blondes unfurled Their legs on plastic deck chairs, laughing like advertisements Over bottles of Coca-Cola. Their children pissed in the pool and shrieked With joy. Tits sagged in one-piece floral bathing suits. My grandmother (then, in the throes of beauty) waded in… More Slam at the Benton: “The Anthem” by Mary Kozan (2017)
Empirical Science has often shown a reputation up: the old Egyptians held him in high esteem, and Pliny held that the stone he carried in his eye, the hyena, laid under the tongue, would grant him sight, into the future. Alas, all he carries in his eye is a cockeyed look of hunger and alabandical… More C. Buddingh’ – “The Hyena” – Translated from the Dutch By Matthew Ryan Shelton (2016)
Spanish LA SANGRE DERRAMADA ¡Que no quiero verla! Dile a la luna que venga, que no quiero ver la sangre de Ignacio sobre la arena. ¡Que no quiero verla! La luna de par en par. Caballo de nubes quietas, y la plaza gris del sueño con sauces en las barreras. ¡Que no quiero verla! Que… More “The Blood Shed” translation by Ana Arriaga (2015)
Gold shines; illuminated under the setting sun. Artificial lights flicker, giving birth to the night. Terrifying smiles giving life to inanimate faces. Wide, wild eyes staring. Creatures dancing; spiraling towards infinity. Children ensnared by dream fulfillment. Petite fingers clutching the faces of tiny monsters.
Fifteen is too old to ride a merry-go-round, too old for this twirling coffee-painted pony to take me back to last June, to the machine that spins dizzying circles, as I stand at the head of my friend’s hospital bed, holding her swollen, peeling hand. The whoosh of the machine echoes around the Lysol-clean room,… More “Too Old” by Patricia Haggard (2009)
We were sun-baked and freckled in our halter tops and shorts. Salty from swimming the day away. Full of energy after corn-on-the cob and BLT’s. Eager to ride the merry-go-round at Sound View. Joking about who would catch the unreachable golden ring. Giddy as Grandpa bought us glazed doughnuts for Sunday morning. The sky-blue-pink evening… More “Summer Long Gone” by Linda Drake (2009)