... were telling people not to talk to me even though I d never said a word to either of them. Sam was much older. I never romanticized the age difference because I was too busy thinking about his ears. He had detached earlobes. They were round and fat and unpierced. We d met last year when I still worked...

..., then, and the twisting silver bracelets. the gown of watered silk so fine it scorched in sunlight. more? the diamond collar from her throat, gold rings like turtle bones, the pearl stud in her left ear, and then the ear itself, fleshy and curled like a seashell, carved away so sweetly, hardly any blood...

...Marlin M. Jenkins © 2017 Marlin M. Jenkins 2017 Marlin M. Jenkins arrhythmia at night after your doctor appointment we lie in your bed my ear on your bare chest    collecting stutters       my jaw stiffens    with each thump     reminding me...

... them, the outlined lions & the squint-eyed bears. Between Jansky’s tent & this one, the machinery in our ears is a curb feeler vibrating at a stop light. Or it would be if the tent was in a manicured backyard instead of the dining room of a Section-8 duplex. The neighbors here...

... to see if I’ll wade across our river. I lick the black corners of your ears; one agent shoots my shoulder. I wonder if you could take them down while you’re on top of me, put them in a box somewhere. I tell you I am desert, my face cracks, reptiles hide in my shadows, my hair grows because...

... —​   a child rapist arrested down the road in Monument Park,   who twice a week sits nervous & cross-legged in wire-rim glasses, glancing up the hallway, down at his watch, tapping his feet until Vickie shows up, takes him back to the office to talk. He’d called it a ringing in the ears...

... nickel on anything else, such as the Moonlight Roller Rink. Oscar liked to go and watch the ladies skate; he considered himself a ladies’ man, and kept his hair good and slick. But the argument had fallen upon deaf ears, for Oscar was a man with a dream, and no manner of arithmetic was going...

... blade that I’m sure saw more of the sun than his pecker ever did. When he wasn’t producing it to settle the slightest grievance, he was polishing it between two stones, remarking to anybody within ear- shot, “A man is ultimately judged by the sharpness of his blade and the steadiness of his...

... the leader of men, driving Victory through the river, urging my boys to follow, when a whole horde of the heathen rise from the brush of the banks and train their rifles and arrows on us, so I fire my carbine till the barrel tip glows and my cheek burns and my ear becomes a ringing hollowed bell...

... ears. It s the question of the day, of her lifetime: Has the cancer spread? I sense the answer, sadly, is yes. Perhaps because she looks so fragile in her cotton gown, her eyes jaundiced at their lower lids, or because I figure the 800,000 Marlboro 32 the minnesota review Lights have compromised her...

... woodlands. My palms grazed the tips of the tallest spruces and Douglas firs. Hoffman 15 Provided wildlife sanctuary. Hundreds of sandpipers and godwits and warblers landed on my shoulder. My scalp transformed into a feathered hat. They roosted on the ridge of my ear, built nests inside, and I witnessed...

... signal. The woman minnesota review 85 (2015) DOI 10.1215/00265667-3144354  © 2015 Fikret Pajalic 37 38 the minnesota review counts three, two, one, but it’s really quiet and you have to strain your ears to hear it. She lifts her graceful...

... leans back up and gives Sydney's thigh a squeeze and says, “I'm still handsome as ever, right?” She lifts her shoulders and wants to press them all the way to her ears. “Leave her alone,” Ada says. “Did you hear you're about to be a daddy?” Sydney asks. Apollo laughs like boys here laugh...

... . Johnson Walter . 1999 . Soul by Soul: Life inside the Antebellum Slave Market. Cambridge, MA : Harvard University Press . Ratliffe Ben . 2008 . The Jazz Ear: Conversations over Music . New York : Henry Holt . Sidran Ben . 1983 . Black Talk . New York : Da Capo...

... for their brightness. People who enjoy life make me uncomfortable. How could you love the quarry so but sleep gripping your own button-down shirt for freedom my hair playing thorns to your eyes. Our ears mistaking wind in trees for the ocean. minnesota review 83 (2014) DOI 10.1215...

... drowned a squirrel in a slop trough for eating all the horse feed at my uncle’s ranch. My brother said stop when I held it to the bottom with a shovel, but I meant it, I told him it was necessary, until it came out one long hiss. Eighteen ears pricked and bristled...

... is to be ordinary, unfit for human feelings, I say to you, but your left ear is lodged in a pile of dog shit. minnesota review 87 (2016) DOI 10.1215/00265667-3630736  © 2016 Dylan Loring 34 ...

... as an entire litter of an ancient Japanese hunting breed. I spent my whole lunch break watching him fall asleep sitting up, his head lolling back and forth before collapsing into a fuzzy brown and white molehill. Then I’d watch him sleep, his stomach rising and falling, his ears twitching. Sometimes...

... about The raging hummingbirds in your ear as you head-butted The Mustang into your mother’s Camry in the green zone Out front? Is there a way to strangle their feathered necks Or teach them how to crave destruction less? minnesota review 89 (2017) DOI 10.1215/00265667-4175989...