This is a Dove This is a dove, I think. I’ve never been good at bird identification. That’s funny, now that my job is picking up dead ones killed by the windmills’ spinning blades. There are 60 windmills in this “wind farm,” lots of dead birds. I think I might get a book. I mean, […]Read more "This is a Dove"
Daniel Fitzpatrick grew up in New Orleans and now lives in Hot Springs, Arkansas, with his wife and daughter. He studied Philosophy at the University of Dallas and his poems have appeared or are forthcoming in several journals, including 2River View, Amaryllis, Panoply, Eunoia Review, Ink in Thirds, and Coe Review. He plans to finish his first […]Read more "Working in Reverse"
I heard that the first place I’d worked in Oregon shuttered today the same way we hear everything now: a Facebook post. A friend was tagged in a dim cell phone shot snapped in the dying Lloyd Center Mall in Portland. Lloyd Center has been dying since I first moved to Portland in 2003. A […]Read more "The Corset’s Last Breath: Frederick’s of Hollywood is Dead"
One at a time, I diligently pulled the push pins out of the sides of my cubicle walls. I was revered in this office for the colors and personality that my tiny space contained. Photos of my family and friends, doodles and drawings, flowers perpetually perched on my desk. Figurines, model cars, books, lamp light […]Read more "Human Resources"
my thumbs disengage from my body and their lonely stubs stink like eggs, so i suck them back on to leave the house in one piece. they tell me this book is giving birth to another. so what? what if each building were a different color? you would never run out of places where no […]Read more "sallm"
Hope we don’t have to sweep you up. You know, money comes from dust, from ground down paper like they’ve made you with folded tabs like paper dolls. Somewhere you know these wolves will grind your legs to dust. We learn it— girls get devoured if they don’t get old. Disappeared. Hag. Haggle. Wrinkle. Sold. […]Read more "Starlet Celebrity"
“I’ll walk. Just pull over there.” Robbie was sounding cool, not like jazz musician-cool, but as someone attempting to stay calm and deflecting agitation. The skewered garage door must surely be revealing blatant evidence upon the rear of the car, which hadn’t yet been seen by anyone, not even Daisy. That was for later. They […]Read more "Daily Plucked (Part 3 of 3)"
Last week I harvested some of my grapes and decided to make jelly. My aunt and uncle were visiting, so I brought the grapes and supplies with me when I went to my parents’ house. 10 pounds of sweet Concord grapes. Seeing that it would take me hours to pluck them off the stems, my […]Read more "Musing Over Jam"
There is one moment, above all others in college, that I regret the most. Much more than the men, the blackouts, the Hot Topic t-shirts. It took place on the day of my thesis defense. My creative writing thesis was a memoir manuscript, or at least tried to be. The story followed my first two […]Read more "Sasha Fiercely Not Feminist"