I’m my father’s green thumb turned hard from the weeding, plucking out the overgrown. They whimper at my hand, clinging to Earth, damp with dawn. I cry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. The roots surrender. This corpse at my palm- I place into the basket. When I walk home I cry with the writhe […]
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marathonlitreview has contributed 168 entries to our website, so far.
To My Great-Grandmother Who Died in One Pandemic From Her Great-Granddaughter Alive in Another – Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg
1. 1918 What was it like for you that last summer, the humidity of cicadas endless as the ocean between the sunny fields of Romania and this throw-away street in what they call East St. Louis? Were the clouds too low, the children too loud, or, even worse, afraid to speak at all while your […]
You pen a note to your friend in math class asking my friend in phy-ed if she’ll tell me during lunch that you want to meet me after school so we can walk home together. I find you behind the buses and we move down the sidewalk, our coats touching along their sleeves. My fingers […]
I like the way the paint peels off the ceiling at Cemitas Las Poblanitas—full, satisfying sheets drooping down—and the way the guitarist laments with his frail voice as he walks behind us while we shop for shirts with blue skulls and the city’s name to prove we were, in fact, here. I can never figure […]
Clayton Spencer is an Appalachian poet from Southeastern Kentucky. He holds a BA in English fromthe University of Kentucky.
My mother calls me one evening to tell me I can no longer call her by our name— Or to ask me, rather. To grant her permission to sever the nominal bond between us, ever present since birth. I tell her, “It’s fine by me, it’s not my name,” even though it is, of course. […]
We found a raspberry patch in full bloom threw them into the brooding, balmy sky turning raindrops into gumdrops. The sweet drizzle stained our feet with purple sugar until Old Man Sullivan caught us– muddy but giggling. Summertime sun was sepia-toned sweltered in the fever of dysfunction back at home. We would walk to […]
“Do you know what sleep means?” joked Jamie. “It’s a combination of be and quiet.” He was bothered again, like a torn-up telegram. Alicia rolled her eyes. Jamie’s anger may have been mislaid, but it was Sunday night and someone up the street had fired a gun. Frightened him. Two or three times a month […]
The drive started out pleasantly. When I left Pittsburgh, I didn’t really know where I was going. I dropped my sister off at the airport, taking her all the way to the gate, because she’s only seventeen and the airport will allow clingy guardians like myself to get a gate pass, if they show their […]
Anya screams from the attic and I know at once she has found the crocodile. I remain by the living room window. It’s March and outside, the Yorkshire Dales are a faded khaki after winter. The fields surrounding my childhood home in Brazil never seemed to change hue. Between harvests, the air shimmered over plants […]