Six Yellow Stanzas
...among these creamy freesia women - they all are. They let some men be dark, like the one they call Dark Gable, who could talk that talk the best. The...
Darkly
for Dave Smith The moss never falls. However gray, it hangs like shirts left to weather and rag over the road and the dead-end rail and in all the branches...
Anniversary
...like the water in Court Square's fountain, in Hebe's offered cup, as if our legs, our arms remember some traffic and follow it here on another Sunday like a traveler,...
Born In Violent Conquest: A Review of Jacksonland
...antebellum era, national defense and wellbeing always involved real estate and market agriculture. For Americans like Jackson, the common good required the erasure of Indian peoples as landowners and their...
Southwestern Humor: The Beginning of "Grit Lit"
...'splain mysef like yu? I ladles out my words at randum, like a calf kickin at yaller-jackids; yu jis' rolls em out to the pint, like a feller a-layin bricks—every...
"In the Neighborhood": Towards a Human Geography of US Slave Society
...social terrain shaped one woman's life. Mary Ann Helam was born in Kentucky. Like thousands of other slaves during the 1830s, she was forced into the Second Middle Passage that...
Cosmopolitanism and Nationalism in Native American Literature: A Panel Discussion
...for someone who claims an interest in waging peace in our world. As debates go, I felt like I had done fairly well for myself by making some arguments in...
History: The Parlor
...activity, but instead of reading individually and silently, the family was likely to listen to someone reading aloud. Typically, the man of the house would read aloud, while women engaged...
Sea Changes in Personhood
...epilogue, each of which rethinks the borders between plant, non-human animals, and human animals that all provide a variation on the "parahuman." Her book is built, like the colonial, enslaved,...
In the Magic City
...from the strings like something's coiled up there, a static even Elvin never shakes. Or maybe what the needle thinks, some Old South air trapped in ladled steel,...