Last week a pair of oversexed tree frogs oozed
a huge jelly ball of eggs on a branch of the young pine
too tall for eventual tadpoles to find the nearby pond
I thought but the pregnant pine bends a bit each day
with the weight of its foster frogs droning
until by now it compasses a line intersecting
the circumference of the water waiting to break.
In this 28th edition of Waccamaw, the Nigerian poet Fasasi Abdulrosheed Oladipupo unpacks the meaning…
[wc_row] [wc_column size="one-half" position="first"] Editorial Team Nonfiction Editor: Amy Singleton Poetry Editor: Brittany Davis Poetry…
The S.C. Creative Sociology Writing Competition invited undergraduate and graduate students from any discipline in…
Museum: a depository of grief displayed aesthetically; I carry the mishaps of things I want…
we say the knife is dead, or the mouth of the knife is dead because…
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