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Interview: Beth Gordon

Beth Gordon is a poet, mother and grandmother, currently landlocked in St. Louis, MO. Her poems have been published in numerous journals including Into the Void, Noble/Gas, Five:2:One, SWWIM, Verity La, Califragile, Pretty Owl Poetry and Yes Poetry. She is also the Poetry Editor of Gone Lawn.  What is your favorite creative medium? Poetry What […]

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Thigh by Kristin Garth

Thigh* They lie to you, at twelve, about the thigh — that what men see, above a knee, will be invitation, impossibly denied. Their closure, your responsibility, neglected means you are unprotected, an opening to be inspected, slut to shut out — having been inside. Suspect a miniskirt rebellion when you cut with razorblade a […]

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Run

My mother told me that as soon as my brother and I could run, we were headed for the street. We’d toddle on our little feet out the front door and towards roads that sounded like rushing ocean waves. Or at least, I would, my mother sprinting behind me with one eye towards my brother […]

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Interview: Charlotte Hamrick

Charlotte Hamrick’s poetry, prose, and photography has been published in The Rumpus, Literary Orphans, Connotation Press, Eunoia Review, and numerous other journals. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee and was a Finalist for the 15th Glass Woman Prize for her Creative Non-Fiction. Currently, she serves as the Creative Nonfiction Editor for Barren Magazine. She lives in New Orleans with her husband and a menagerie of rescued pets.

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Interview: Andrea Lambert

Andrea Lambert was kind enough to answer a few questions about creative process as part of the Luna Speaks Interview Series. Andrea Lambert is the author of Jet Set Desolate, Lorazepam & the Valley of Skin: Extrapolations on Los Angeles, and the chapbooks G(u)ilt and Lexapro Diary. Their writing has appeared in Luna Luna, OCCULUM, […]

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Kick

I’d complain it’s too hot             But I know you                  and you would tell me that your skin was practically peeling off the             bone             yesterday. And you wouldn’t remember the metal sign with the dachshund cut out                         in curly q’s that marked the entrance to the hideout where I am sweating into […]

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