Elizabyth A. Hiscox is the author of the chapbook Inventory from a One-Hour Room (Finishing Line Press, 2009) and serves as an associate editor for 42opus, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and New Issues Poetry and Prose. Her poems have appeared in Gulf Coast, The Fiddlehead, and Ampersand Review, among others. After earning an MFA in Creative Writing from Arizona State University, she […]
In hindsight this could be when it started Stumbling: smile. Embarrassed late October jog. Patient has no family history of this kind of problem She is a rebel in this illness business. MRIs done in 96 and 97 and the doctors found no lesions did not think Remember? Whirl of light there just beyond your […]
Imagine the sadness of wanting something for yourself so badly you would steal it, take it from someone someone you love — dignity for example.
silent. ‘Unresponsive’ was the word paraded around. I, crossing your arms, felt my own muscles itching to uppercut— to unsmug them right out of their lab coats. You settled on another salvation: site of stable dust, sunlight, a wheelchair of height and twitch. A horseshoe nailed above the entrance, luck-side up. My bones ached irony: […]
once: We’ve always known. Death unhinges the jaw. Ptah, in his feathered costume of a cast out delta religion, awash in a protestant nation’s exhibition hall. “Implements to mouth” a placard sedately relates a calling out of spells to restore There was a limbering of the lips with old world libations, “ritual, known as The […]
My grandpa’s legacy of bright tins nodding toward the great sad part of a century and California’s proximity to elsewhere. Oklahoma and Mexico married here like some Sonoran dustbowl in the dark corner of an old man’s garage: you gotta keep it always stocked, hon’; you never know, his mouth says. You’ve never known, his […]
A dual organism: low-slung show of “mutual.” Reindeer Moss, a misnomer – a lichen: tangled hollow stalks branching and rebranching. Stock slaughtered for countries, for continents. A young girl picking potatoes brings her parents water. Wind hurling branch, child, sound to the house, then yellow earth after deep rain. Sympathetic, the systems – the ferns, […]
