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#15 CONTRIBUTORS - Michael Neff
Submissions My father died between hurricanes. It was not a hurricane that finished him, but his body's garden, rich with neglect. When he woke he asked, What is killing me? I said, Remember the clematis climbing the lamp-post on my front walk in Eugene? Okay, he said. A span of pain made him lucid in his hospital night. Cancer's wreathing your spine like that. It's a vine, another child of God that has one impulse: to climb as far up the light as the lamp-post will take it, so it can smother the glass and send tendrils outward an inch per night to reach the pencil cedar, the house, some other standing thing to structure its spread. Okay, he said, and pushed the morphine plunger: Okay. Time for bed. by Robert Hill Long
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Del Sol Review #15 "Convenient Acts of Human Behavior" Poetry and Fiction, From the Archives New Voices, new BEAT POETRY
Poetry and Fiction
New Voices
From The Archives |
SUBMISSIONS
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