Anonymous Letter Written to a Boston Newspaper by a Lowell Factory Girl From the Print
The speed was raised just as we could bear it, and often, almost always, at our request, because with the increase of speed our pay increased.
From the Print
The Mineral Pools at Oxley From the Print
Hardly the “glow mantling” promised. In every respect, the most disgusting pool imaginable.
The Survival Book From the Print
The honeycomb is perfect for learning math. “Exact hexagons,” it says. I like that word. It’s a word my mother would have liked, too—she was a word person.
Graveyard Shift From the Print
Nanveet was certain the new girl had been drinking a couple of Cokes every morning and throwing the cans into the wooded patch behind the service station. Who drinks Coke at seven thirty in the morning, he thought. How can a person do that?
Your Dad Dies / I Google Atom Bombs From the Print
Today, girls and boys soak sugar sacks in gasoline, light and glide them up over the wall, hoping to land their kite bombs in their enemy’s future
grain fields.
History From the Print
“Relax,” the tech urges. “This will take about an hour. You won’t feel much, maybe a slight buzzing sensation. The procedure is perfectly harmless, but it may temporarily stir up some memories.”
You Prefer Hearing Poems Read Aloud to Poems on the Page From the Print
I’m trying to explain my poems.
Sonnets equal boxes, into which
we place the cat, a gun, & all our problems.
12:59:51:06 From the Print
Looking back, I can only remember the nickname given to the luger at those 2010 Winter Olympic Games in British Columbia: “BAM-BAM!,” they cheered. He was a favorite for gold. I can’t recall which country he was representing, just his…
Pirate Town From the Print
In a few minutes, predictably, the air brakes gave an angry hiss and the ton upon ton of steel strained to stop the momentum of its own barreling progress. The train finally came to a stop in the open desert.
Drinking Dead Birds From the Print
Before I had my son, I thought I was too careless to be a mother. I had a bird for eight years that I’d gotten from a flea market as a gift. His cage was cleaned when my parents told me to clean it, his water bowl goopy and pink.