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Our Poetry Editor Becomes Poetry Editor-in-Beef!

Cease, Cows is promoting our Poetry Editor, Michael Dwayne Smith, to Poetry Editor-in-Beef! MDS has worked so hard to make the poetry half of CC a success, that he fully deserves the promotion. More than fully deserves it! We’d give him the best of the cow’s cream on a golden platter, but the damn cows…

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Dear Sir by Victoria McArtor

I have identified an inflated contract fund presently floating in the central bank of Nigeria ready for payment. However, I cannot acquire this money in my name. I am searching for an overseas partner into whose account I would transfer the sum of twenty-one million, three hundred and twenty-two thousand U.S. kites that you flew…

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The Planting by Stephen V. Ramey

He came from the soil fully formed. Glorious. Perfect. He was my son. You uprooted him, nailed him to a trellis, and stood back to watch his faith in me whither. I saw his penis become the first thorn, his face condensed to a kernel. You told him I did not love him. He came…

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A Good Part of the Afternoon by Allen Kopp

She called herself Penelope, but that wasn’t really her name. She lived in a small but comfortable third-floor apartment in a large building. She paid her rent on time and never caused anybody any trouble. She rarely went out, and knew none of the other people in her building except to pass them in the…

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Soliloquy of the River by Lisa Mangini

No one knows what Susquehanna means in Algonquin, but they all have their guesses: “mile wide, footdeep,” “the long and crooked river.”  As long as they keep pulling those smallmouth from me—gills fanned out like sails, a gloved thumb jammed in each cold bottom lip, olive-brown and shimmering in the long summer light—I don’t think…

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Three Poems by Heather Bell

Things I Find Offensive The sweet onions of your balls in another woman’s mouth. The broken keys of your piano, outside of my house, a sort of message. The way you claim to be married, but you are wild, sea floor body at my feet. I ask you who needs love when there is the…

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Three Poems by Dennis Mahagin

and a chain saw whines The tree stands before me shedding pine needles implacability; I want to ask it about time, bravery all the way, all the way inside to its rings; all these trees really do understand see? – they tremble sometimes even sway, but never say a blessed thing. Bruce Dern’s Iconoclastic Suicide…

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Soricidae amoris by Gabino Iglesias

Bertha’s beady eyes were burning a hole in my confidence. Loving her until the end of time, or at least until dinner, was my greatest desire. Sadly, she seemed unimpressed with my declaration of love. When I promised to be eternally faithful, she snatched my bologna sandwich from my hand and swallowed it whole. Foolishly…