...Lisa Fink © 2011 Lisa Fink 2011 Lisa Fink The Horse Pasture two sisters cut burdock milkweed and long grasses leaning on an electric fence two sisters play house between trees these two trees are mine those three are yours these homes are thick...

...Bradley Harrison © 2013 Bradley Harrison 2013 Bradley Harrison Miniature Horse Gorilla man choked my brother in the pantry. For clinking a spoon on his teeth. Every day Blarney killed a coon and carried it up. To the deck where he’d ripped Adam’s leg to the marrow. Polaroids milky his...

...Nick Lantz © 2014 Nick Lantz 2014 Nick Lantz Judas Horse The domesticated Judas horse, trained to lead wild horses into a pen, runs up front.  —​Shannon Livick, “Wild Horses” This time each...

... not just of bodies, populations, or sexual practices but of desire itself. © 2021 Virginia Tech 2021 Chernobyl radiation desire witness reproduction disaster horses Works Cited Broglio Ron . 2016 . “ The Creatures That Remember Chernobyl .” Atlantic , April 26...

... thinkers across the disciplines of literature, philosophy, history, ethics, bioethics, and political and biological science, as well as the pastoral and practical occupations of farming and forestry. Galsworthy, a lover of humanity and rarely seen without a dog or horse as a companion, undertook animal...

... after all), three chick- ens, countless outdoor cats, and whole barns of horses add up to? Life cycles of learning compassion and neglect. II. Lizards compress their lungs as they sprint, squeezing the air alternately with each twist of their bodies. Once, my sister and I let our bearded dragons loose...

... shouted, What the fuck are you doing? It s a horse. A really good horse. I fed it grass-like petroleum and it should run. It should run. I recently saw a cowboy movie with Harrison Ford in it and he whipped that thing while it was stalling and woman, it could run. She blinked hard. But your car...

... against the hooves. Now, I ve staked my tent next to the rust. We don t grow like everything else: sycamores, termites, a beloved s hair. We have that in common, the horses and I. I m the smaller one, T-shirt stitched with sunflowers rising from the breast pocket. I name the horses after all the famous...

... just realized it’s impossible to turn a wolf into a dog. Look in a mirror. Repeat after me if you want to understand, like, what it’s like: gotta love a horse gotta love a horse gotta love a horse! . . . and so forth. I’m going to tell you every single thing...

... in, stranger, she said, I have horses too, your horse can use some rest. What can happen again will happen again. Behind me, moon rocks rise slowly from the ocean floor, the land my own meridian a flickering white as I pull the reins to notice where I have come: dumbfounded by those words, the good tether...

... by its mane the dead man’s pinto and spring to its back and heft my hatchet high and holler the war cry Crazy Horse taught us to live by: Hoka hey, I shout, and it is a good day to die, but an even better day to kill. 26 the minnesota review...

... (which, inevitably, he failed to apply to his own case when the time came). Socrates tells young Phaedrus that he worries he is a charioteer with one black horse, all bad impulses, and a white horse, all good impulses. Kierkegaard’s variation: imagine you are driving a cart...

..., George’s brother Bill, was twenty years older than George, but Bill wrapped a halter rope too tight around his wrist one day, and got himself dragged to death by a frac- tious horse he was looking to purchase from a bachelor farmer out toward Coolbrook. Bill’s wife, Violet, had already died giving...

.... Martin's, 2004) and Headlock (Algonquin, 2000). His stories and poems have appeared most recently in The Greensboro Review and Backwards City Review. Jeanne Bryner is a nurse-author and teacher. Her books include Breathless, Blind Horse: Poems, Eclipse: Stories, and Tenderly Lift Me: Nurses...

...Seth Abramson © 2010 by Virginia Tech 2010 Seth Abramson Some Drowned Archer Where the waterway gives out there is mud and when the mud gives out people. On display for heaven their things arrayed in the dark. A horse fallen into the track made...

... 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...

... no meat or fish and to sleep on horse hair beds. I responded to a complaint about an odor from the apartment; the needle was in the subject’s arm; she was bare, lying on a bed. The NYC Police Commissioner admits he will never understand it: he holds up photos of the arrested woman’s children...

... is filled with lightbulbs. I’ve had pain in my tongue. I’ve stitched a pretty dress made of licorice. I’ve walked through the garden of misery. The trees spoke Spanish and their bark tasted like aspirin. I met a sensational horse named Jalapeño...

... on Maggie  I planted landmines beneath the snow and left my car:  to burn in a horse field  there goes fall there goes late spring and summer  there goes my romantic epoch skittering down the road  what chance did I have?  what tires unburdened themselves of ice?  a bed-sheet rope tied itself to my...

... a horse hair on barbwire fence and the blade whistles all I can hear is the buzz of my hornet-nest heart over grandpa’s shoulder and the blade whistles and the blade whistles minnesota review 89 (2017) DOI 10.1215/00265667-4175905  © 2017 James Dunlap...