Postcard prose - Issue 13 | September 2011
One Night on Lake Bled
by Sonya Bilocerkowycz
You ice-skate beef bits about the frying pan with a tin fork. I sit and hope to taste the lardy smell.
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Avignonnaïse
by Samantha Hall
People title themselves in Avignon. Where you are from is of the upmost importance; everything else is secondary. If you are Avignonnaïse, that is current. But where are you from? Where is your past?
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Legacy
by Brooks Rexroat
I wake up with Khrushchev’s brass left eye staring me down. His look is angry, as if I’m the one who extracted half his nose