Julia Forrest

Poetry

“God as an Illinois hops farm” by Anna Girgenti

24 April 2020 on Poetry

in early July, just before harvest, mud on the frilly white hemof my sundress. Barefoot. We squeeze the last drops of beer from the keg — my little brother barely...

Poetry

“Clouds” by Amanda Span

08 November 2019 on Poetry

My father couldburn holes in the cloudswith the power of his mind: Watch, he says,looking at the stretchof sky above us, a sheet on the sandbeneath our backs. Right there. He...

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