..:: CONTENTS ::..

   Volume XI, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..

..:: PROSE ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
   Volume V, Issue II
   Volume VI, Issue I
   Volume VI, Issue II
   Volume VII, Issue I
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
   Volume VIII, Issue II
   Volume IX, Issue I
   Volume IX, Issue II
   Volume X, Issue I
   Volume X, Issue II


Samantha Bares


Returning to the slop of my body like flung batter. Are you like me, a transient gummy? No—trimmed to bits, you would coalesce, undisturbed. Remember, for me, how you would will yourself exhausted. Tongue reappears, but I am not aware of that. Hands of a builder or a young nothing. We sluice the street and patter, whole every time.



//   Advance   //