Mare Hieronimus

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Musings on Tundra by Mare Hieronimus

I am trying to make sense out of the intersection of literature/narrative and dance. In the creation of Tundra, I started with a series of questions. What is it to be a woman in the world, alone?

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Taffy by Josh Young

Taffy My heart is salt water taffy. Salty, sweet, sticky. Comes in a colorful box often found in the bargain bin of a gift soft...

Four Poems by Azalea Aguilar

Sunday Best he blows dandelions for his babies in the corner store parking lotin their Sunday best, following this morning's sermontheir wishes scatter across the...

God Was Hiding by Daniel Cano

God Was Hiding Faith cannot be held as an old grey handNor as a breath to put voice to prayerIn faith I rendered a final...
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