hobart logo

Showing results for 2016

July 25, 2016 | Poetry

Two Poems

Maggie Graber

April

A cycle with seven edges
equals my dream of bicycle spokes
jutting towards the center
of an ice cream bowl. Don’t tell me
the seconds yellow took to elevate
to red isn’t

July 21, 2016 |

The Neon Demon

Sean Kilpatrick

People are just the mares under their craft.

July 21, 2016 | Poetry

Two Poems

Molly Bess Rector

You were dead: tiny birds of glass littered the road like jeweled confetti for a New Year’s bash.

July 20, 2016 | Fiction

Dunn and Hooper Standing in Dunn’s Yard

Brandon Barrett

The cousin had called my thesis advisor and said something like, “Hey, film professor cousin, can you do this film for us?” and my thesis advisor was like, “Hey, no. But I know a guy who is still unemployed four months after graduation and is about to get evicted.”

 
 
July 19, 2016 | Poetry

To the Loch Ness

Cait Weiss

Or more specifically its monster, long tail whisper in our swimming pool: in a valley girl’s mind. 

July 18, 2016 | Fiction

Trying

David Byron Queen

We spent that summer on Dad's couch trying not to move, because if we didn’t move we wouldn’t spend

July 18, 2016 |

Weiner-Dog / Dinner in America

Sean Kilpatrick

The Great God Pan

July 15, 2016 | Poetry

Two Poems

Anna Deem

Dibs

In Chicago, we use dibs to take
ownership of what we will never own.
Traffic cones, rusted patio chairs, strollers,
a pair of orange Home Depot buckets.
Flanking the concrete.  We

July 14, 2016 | Poetry

Morning Rituals

Todd Osborne

He started as a single Clay Aiken, the one we all knew with the smiling face and aw-shucks demeanor

July 13, 2016 | Fiction

Stolen

Christopher DeWan

Her first reaction was to laugh: "That's so like you, Camilla, to lose an entire car." 

July 12, 2016 | Poetry

Lone Horse Running

E.G. Cunningham

If this were paint it’d be asymptotic, red.

July 11, 2016 | Nonfiction

Long Live the King 

Megan Kirby

A girl on my train is watching Kylie Jenner’s snapchat. I lean in and watch over her shoulder. I can't hear, but it doesn't really matter.

July 8, 2016 | Fiction

When

Cathy Mellett

When I turned to face you. I knew I had to face you.

July 7, 2016 | Nonfiction

Artificial Ecstasy

Mila Jaroniec

I found out I was pregnant in the bathroom of a wine bar. 

July 6, 2016 | Poetry

Four Poems

Shayla Lawson

Too many toasties cut in quarters for Subway. Too many indemnity claims at Allstate.

July 5, 2016 | Fiction

Sal and Dean Are Dicks

Yasmina Din Madden

It’s clear that most of these students hate Sal, Dean, and Kerouac.

July 4, 2016 | Poetry

Three Poems

Joshua Johnston

If you’re wanting to write a poem that will appeal to the largest possible amount of people, you really can’t go wrong writing a poem about water.

June 30, 2016 | Fiction

Early October

Haley Morton

There is an eerie glow to the hollowness of bark that has been stripped of its leaves and fruit

June 29, 2016 | Nonfiction

What Is Not the Moon Will Only Make You Farther

Ali Rachel Pearl

I try to turn everything into a metaphor so I don’t have to face it straight on.

June 29, 2016 | Poetry

two poems

JDA Winslow

 

believing in nothing
listening to jazz
cooking purple sprouting
rituals evoking
somelike
the aspirations
of the expectations
of a certain

June 28, 2016 | Poetry

Two Poems

Emily Sipiora

please alert The

Paris Review that this wrenching November

is truly the cruelest month of all.

June 28, 2016 | Fiction

All Of These Scenes Are Harshly Lit

Michael Schuck

When was the last time she ran? At all? As a real kid in bare feet in grass at her grandparents’ house.

June 27, 2016 | Fiction

The Worlds I Destroy

Taylor Bostick

At least I was alone, I tell myself. There’s no one to miss the worlds I destroy but me.

June 24, 2016 | Poetry

4 Poems

Lydia Hounat

the drugs didn’t wear off,
the guy she wants to get in bed
                                doesn’t really care.

when she was 6 she’d never touch cigarettes,
                                but drugs made her slip

June 24, 2016 |

Nightmares

Annalise Mabe

He was a shadow, "A black braid of smoke" as Simic would say. No. That's too pretty.

June 23, 2016 | Poetry

2 Poems

Wendy C. Ortiz

washing the wound
in beer and poetry

June 23, 2016 | Fiction

Chicharones

Herve Comeau

She has a pliant diction, and always after speaking to her mother her accent takes on the squished together sing-song of Spanish. When I ask her who it was on the phone she says, “My mother,”

June 22, 2016 | Fiction

Reliable 

Acquanetta M. Sproule

I call him “Morty” and he’s one of my most consistent companions.

Each morning when I wake, he whispers:  “Today, you die.”

June 22, 2016 | Fiction

People Resent You For It

Ardith Bravenec

Look, you smile too much or too little, both at the wrong times, and people don’t like you.  

June 21, 2016 | Poetry

5 Poems

Hanna Mangold

Yellow 1 & 2

I will no longer keep you; I will remember you yellow

you have a beautiful yellow
ache, a scarf made of heavy eyelashes.
I keep you tucked in my backpack among
other