Monthly Archives: September 2014

Abraham Smith on Merrill Gilfillan

Song: Forks of the Smoky Hill Season through place, Place in season, in place: Crux of it, cruz: cave of the heart weevil: Why me, hackberry– I am your friend. One song per season. Throw of yucca seeds lacquer black … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on lines by Forrest Gander

FIELD GUIDE TO SOUTHERN VIRGINIA True as the circumference to its center. Woodscreek Grocery, Rockbridge County. Twin boys peer from the front window, cheeks bulging with fireballs. Sandplum trees flower in clusters by the levee. She makes a knot on … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on lines by Tim Earley

From Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery Spring placed its finger on my spine. I am not some kind of zombie with a surfboard and ham. I am not some kind of pigeon cooing itself to death. The engine … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on lines by Michael Earl Craig

T O D A Y,   F O R   E X A M P L E Every now and then I wonder if I fucked up with this horseshoeing thing, but then I talk with friends in academia and, well, I’m … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on Gillian Conoley, Dallas and Johnny Cash

I am writing an article:  Johnny Cash I am writing an article for the Sunday magazine.   I am 23, I have my face made up, feeling smoke where the tongue slides, smoke while carrying around a camera like I know … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on lines by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

Motown made our mercy. Only soothe in western rooms rounded in radio waves gleaning out the insides of maternal mind. Unkind charge firing synapse beyond reason goals. She moved through it like lightning, charging each wave with serious challenge, but … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on lines by Lisa D. Chavez

Tucked away in his tower of useless words, he withers. But the alchemist’s assistant leaves the workshop everyday.  She gathers the stones by calling their names–clicks of her tongue, syllables of silver, turquoise, and jade. They flock to her and … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on lines from Ashley Capps’ “Shane Says”

And there was a man lying on the ground with each of his legs in a pit bull’s mouth. Shit, said Shane. They don’t let go— There’s a special tool—so he got the tool, straddled each of the dogs, cranked … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on Greg Alan Brownderville’s “Song for a Kiss”

[Note: This is the second in a series of posts focusing on writers who are included in the Hick Poetics Anthology.] Song for a Kiss Something quick and wet on my neck. I whipped around, and right behind me in … Continue reading

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Abraham Smith on Mei-mei Berssenbrugge’s “GLITTER” (Section 3)

(Note: This post is the first of many that will appear on LINES exploring poems and poets from Lost Roads’ forthcoming Hick Poetics Anthology) 3 The tree encompasses its changing form, while ego, my self of physical experience, looks in the … Continue reading

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