From the Print Journal – Page 22 – Michigan Quarterly Review

From the Print Journal

“Indian Pipe,” by G.C. Waldrep

1 Comment /

poetry by G. C. Waldrep, excerpted from MQR 53:2, Spring 2014

I came to love late,

as in a forest clearing

one walks at dusk

& spies, in the

needlemass, that

pale clump, un-

suspected, not there

just a few hours

before: indian pipe,

“Indian Pipe,” by G.C. Waldrep Read More »

poetry by G. C. Waldrep, excerpted from MQR 53:2, Spring 2014

I came to love late,

as in a forest clearing

one walks at dusk

& spies, in the

needlemass, that

pale clump, un-

suspected, not there

just a few hours

before: indian pipe,

“Otherwise Known As: A Legend in Words & Pictures,” by Rachel May

Leave a Comment /

And the old ones, the ones who were afraid, looked at each other and sat down, and cried. They threw up their hands. They said, You’re going to do it, anyway, aren’t you? And the new ones said, Yes. And the old ones said, All our work? And the new ones said, We’re sorry. And they all knelt down, and began to pull back the grass.

“Otherwise Known As: A Legend in Words & Pictures,” by Rachel May Read More »

And the old ones, the ones who were afraid, looked at each other and sat down, and cried. They threw up their hands. They said, You’re going to do it, anyway, aren’t you? And the new ones said, Yes. And the old ones said, All our work? And the new ones said, We’re sorry. And they all knelt down, and began to pull back the grass.

“Jesus Christs Forever,” by Amber Burke

Leave a Comment /

* fiction by Amber Burke *

In the white bathroom light, she can see all the orange hairs poking out of her arms and her legs. She stares at the ring on her finger, the ring Bruce bought her last night on an installment plan, gold-gold with a fleck of diamond inside a flower shape.

“Jesus Christs Forever,” by Amber Burke Read More »

* fiction by Amber Burke *

In the white bathroom light, she can see all the orange hairs poking out of her arms and her legs. She stares at the ring on her finger, the ring Bruce bought her last night on an installment plan, gold-gold with a fleck of diamond inside a flower shape.

“Henry Ford (1904),” by Campbell McGrath

Leave a Comment /

*poetry by Campbell McGrath* From curiosity comes dynamism, from obstinacy drive.

From the drawing board, from tinkering, from the machine shop in the old barn come pistons and cams.

“Henry Ford (1904),” by Campbell McGrath Read More »

*poetry by Campbell McGrath* From curiosity comes dynamism, from obstinacy drive.

From the drawing board, from tinkering, from the machine shop in the old barn come pistons and cams.

“Dead Turtle,” by Rebecca Makkai

Leave a Comment /

It was the first two boys in the classroom at 8:25 who started tapping the glass of the cage. “Kirby’s dead!” one of them shouted—later she couldn’t remember who it was, though she was sure Michael Curtis had been in the class that year, and he’d have been the type to shout, the type for drama. “He’s like this,” Michael said, lolling his tongue out and choking himself.

“Dead Turtle,” by Rebecca Makkai Read More »

It was the first two boys in the classroom at 8:25 who started tapping the glass of the cage. “Kirby’s dead!” one of them shouted—later she couldn’t remember who it was, though she was sure Michael Curtis had been in the class that year, and he’d have been the type to shout, the type for drama. “He’s like this,” Michael said, lolling his tongue out and choking himself.

lsa logoum logoU-M Privacy StatementAccessibility at U-M