From the fields and fields and fields of unstoppably green corn, waving through the wind like a reed against it all, she stood and said nothing because that part was done and something else had yet to replace it. He came there too, to see, but it wasn’t the way he thought it would be because nothing is and that’s fine. I was once good, and would be again. Corn never lies. Not in places like these. Not to people like them
Scott Mitchel May is a well-read skate punk living in Madison, WI. His work has appeared in Bending Genres, Maudlin Hause, Rejection Letters, Misery Tourism, and The Bear Creek Gazzette, among others. He was the winner of the 2019 UW, Madison Writers' Institute Poem or Page Competition in the category of literary fiction and he was shortlisted for the 2022 Santa Fe Writers' Project Literary Award. He holds a GED from the Wisconsin Department of Public Instruction and a BS in English Literature from Edgewood College. He tweets @smitchelmay.
- On Wednesday I Get Ashes at the Drive-Thru
Katelyn Botsford Tucker
- How To Lie On Your Back Underwater And Not Drown Your Fool Self
- The Day Ends. The Day Ends. The Day Ends.
- And if this is where you live, welcome home
- After Saying John Ashbery’s Poetry Is Like Getting Out of a Bath When It’s Still Warm, And My Workshop Instructor Laughs and Tells Us He’s Going to Tell His Friend I Said That, Repeating What I Said in a Lower Voice, Not Like “John Ashbery’s Poetry Is Like Getting Out of a Bath When It’s Still Warm” but More Like “John Ashbery’s poetry is like getting out of a bath when it’s still warm” Because People Don’t Normally Talk in Capitals, and Did Y’all Know I Visited the Capitol in Fifth Grade on a School Field Trip as a “Safety Patrol,” Back When I Didn’t Know the Responsibilities Behind Patrolling a School, Before An Intoxicated Man Intruded My High School Last Year and the School Cop, on Their First Day, Didn’t Know What to Do, so the Local Cops Shot the Intruder in the Same Building I Was in