The Heir | Andrew Coburn Forced March | Robert Lietz Dear Leader Dreamer | Gabriel Check Antipastoral: Dairymen | Amy Groshek Snapshots of the Epic | Gregory Lawless Three Reliquaries | Laurence Davies The Inexorable | Stefanie Freele Travel Photography | Joshua Walker Post-Christmas Inventory | Laura Kolb Cityscapes, Silos, Blue Nudes | Amber Krieger Farming Silence | Lauren Ashleigh Kenny Evan in the Tent | Walter Cummins Three Poems | Grace Wells On the Contrary Archives | Search   Heir.htmlMarch.htmlDreamer.htmlSnapshots.htmlReliquaries.htmlInexorable.htmlPhotojournalist.htmlInventory.htmlCityscapes.htmlSilence.htmlEvan.htmlGrace.htmlContrary.htmlArchives.htmlshapeimage_2_link_0shapeimage_2_link_1shapeimage_2_link_2shapeimage_2_link_3shapeimage_2_link_4shapeimage_2_link_5shapeimage_2_link_6shapeimage_2_link_7shapeimage_2_link_8shapeimage_2_link_9shapeimage_2_link_10shapeimage_2_link_11shapeimage_2_link_12shapeimage_2_link_13shapeimage_2_link_14
Antipastoral: Dairymen | Amy Groshek the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission, or at sundown They are not as Whitman found them; you must search among sellers of grain, appliance repairmen, the expressionless workers drowned in the whine of the factories. Hands of stone have softened, eyes of wood have opened, words of fire have smoldered to bitter ash. Many angers and shames were forgotten, let slip from the back, shed into debt when they stepped from those worn rubber boots. You must know them by what they remember: the numberless dawns, children awash in cornstalks, and how the boots stand waiting shin-deep in a cow-yard of shit.  read about the author Contributors.htmlshapeimage_3_link_0
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