...Lisa Kwong © 2017 Lisa Kwong 2017 Lisa Kwong I Sing to Myself While Driving to Indianapolis Airport My choir teacher said I was an alto, meaning I can’t scale cathedral ceilings with a whistle register like Mariah. Forget notes only dogs can hear, I...

... known as the Bywater, through scholarly accounts of the function of music in the slave trade, through reports on the singing of survivors in the immediate aftermath of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, and in terms of the ongoing efforts of some New Orleanians to minimize the sound of live music...

... 10.1215/00265667-3457687  © 2016 Chelsea Lemon Fetzer 42   43 sings the new favorite. Listen to the words, a man falling backward in snow. She sings her father’s name Michael. Heart attack on Valentine’s is a hard act to follow though her husband’s...

... was afraid. I was in the backseat, because he wouldn’t leave me home alone. I didn’t know what was happening, only I knew he was afraid, but soon Diana Ross came on and he looked at me in the rear- view mirror and tried to smile. He said: Sing, Danny. Mom always loves it when you sing. She and I would...

...Marcus Pactor © 2013 Marcus Pactor 2013 Marcus Pactor Next Time, Merman The merman strolls among us, Fresh out the water, dripping. He sings ocean blues. He votes. His collar hides telltale gills. (Kinda hides. Besides, he’s got water pumps...

... the color of what s inside. A growing membrane across the border threatens to engulf Calexico if not for men with guns and birds with no cottonwoods to sing from. The border is the idea of conceptual nuisance. Understand that families sing over fences. Understand the moon songs that perch in ocotillos...

... green field, we drink warm milk from cracked teacups painted with tiny yellow birds. She unknots the twine from a blue Rosenbloom’s cake box. I remember sugar cubes perfectly stacked in her silver caddy. Its delicate silver tongs. One lump or two, angelah? The way she would sing to me...

...Vasantha Sambamurti Copyright © 2021 Vasantha Sambamurti 2021 Vasantha Sambamurti I Inspire Song in White Women I inspire song in white women. Unblinking they sing at me: Doll! Pet! Knit this child a store-bought dress. Daily I dream of scooping her up. Skin sherbet smooth. Store her...

... and Richard, Anne, the artistic counselor, randomly heard Carl singing while he was warming up with his wheel alone in a studio, and she loved it. She then proposed to use a cappella, the idea of singing without background music, while performing Cyr-Wheel to orient the creation of the act in that direction...

... of strumming a short ditty about watermelon seeds when a baseball smacked me on the side of my head. As I was lying on the field unconscious, I had this wonderful dream. I was flying with Jenny up into the pink sky and purple clouds, and these rainbow-striped birds came over to us singing...

... kinship that sings to the water and celebrates the flight of birds and the floating of butterflies. After reading Theresa's email, I asked myself, “What is a water walk?” I clicked on the link. A water walk is an extended Ojibwe-led ceremony honoring water's life-sustaining gift (Day 2021...

.... My wish is not to get a question about the stomach. I also wish I could see my mother’s grave from my window and that my dad stops working on the tank so we can watch the tape. We only watch the first two minutes. In the tape, a choir of young girls is getting ready to sing. You can see...

... listeners), the authors hear its baseline as asserting a sense of the bird's self being their self. This could well be true, but it could also be the case that a bird would sing for sheer joy or creativity or pleasure without asserting or assuming a self as such. Consider the possibility that birds dwell...

... patients all singing in different keys. But in fact it was something akin to a choral symphony, each voice a discrete instrument precisely timed together. Afterwards Sister Mary said, remember please, rehearsals same time here next week. ...

..., a copier running diagnostics, a phone at the end of the hall, a buzzing ballast ready to go dark, a door closing softly. On Sunday nights the dread sings about all the hours to be filtered before time comes back to me, all the facts accumulating, dripping...

... I have dreamed of, keep time in the homes of the pretenders. I will not trade my sanity for it. Until now I have survived on recycled desires, but an apology offered with half-felt duty, I could not respect, or sing, or love. ...

... more or who knows, temporary and gentle and cruel, some times I just stand and do this and sing along with my arms. (long way down & so blue) minnesota review 82 (2014) DOI 10.1215/00265667-2409865  © 2014 Ed Skoog 10 ...

...Kelli Russell Agodon Copyright © 2021 Kelli Russell Agodon 2021 Kelli Russell Agodon Heartbreak Uterus Inside my body is a ditch of chirping birds, a man with a ukulele singing in a meadow of poppies surrounded by vines of deep deep roses. My body says it s tired of this song. A child stands...