Pamplemousse

The Student Literary Journal of Vermont State University

Poetry

A Different Kind of Fire

SUZANNE O’CONNELL’s recently published work can be found in Forge, Atlanta Review, Crack The Spine, The Louisville Review, Found Poetry Review and Burningword Literary Journal among others. She lives in Los Angeles. She was nominated for a 2015 Best Of The Net award.

Fugitive Light

NATE PRITTS is the Director and Founding Editor of H_NGM_N (2001), an independent publishing house that started as a mimeograph ‘zine. His newest book of poetry, POST HUMAN, is just out from A-Minor Press. Nate lives among the Finger Lakes of NY state. For more, visit natepritts.com.

“Growing”

JOE SULLIVAN is author of a novel, Three Thirds, and his fiction and poetry have appeared in Ginosko Literary Journal, Poets/Artists, On Earth As It Is, OVERFLOW and Monkeybicycle. He works as managing editor of Dance Teacher magazine and plays saxophone semi-professionally. He lives in Brooklyn, NY, with his family.

For more: joesullivanwrites.wordpress.com.

Allspice

KEVIN CASEY‘s work is forthcoming or has appeared recently in Paper Nautilus, Rust+Moth, San Pedro River Review, and other publications. His new chapbook “The wind considers everything——” was recently published by Flutter Press, and another from Red Dashboard is due out later this year. For more, visit andwaking.com.

In Costco’s Parking Lot

TONY MAGISTRALE is Professor of English at the University of Vermont. He is the author of three poetry collections: What She Says About Love (Bordighera Press), The Last Soldiers of Love (Literary Laundry), and most recently, Entanglements (Fomite Press).

How to Live

CHRISTINE RHEIN’s poetry collection, Wild Flight, is a winner of the Walt McDonald First Book Prize (Texas Tech University Press). Her poems have appeared in journals including The Gettysburg Review and The Southern Review, and have been awarded prizes from Green Mountains Review and Michigan Quarterly Review. In addition, her work has been selected for Poetry Daily, The Writer’s Almanac, Best New Poets and other anthologies.

If Your Husband Should Die First

KRISTINA OWENS will graduate with her MFA from the University of Nebraska at Omaha in July 2015. She lives in Brooklyn, NY and is currently working on her first collection of poems.

I’m in an office, researching a project

Longlisted for this year’s National Poetry Competition (UK) by The Poetry Society, JONATHAN GREENHAUSE was a finalist or honorable mention in 2014’s poetry contests from Naugatuck River Review, New Millenni-um Writings, Peregrine, Red Hen Press, and River Styx. His poetry has also appeared or is forthcoming in FOLIO, Gargoyle, Green Mountains Review, Quarter after Eight, RHINO, and Stand, among others.

Sheet

HADARA BAR-NADAV is the author of Lullaby (with Exit Sign), awarded the Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize; The Frame Called Ruin, Runner Up for the Green Rose Prize; and A Glass of Milk to Kiss Goodnight, awarded the Margie Book Prize. She is also the author of two chapbooks, Fountain and Furnace, awarded the Sunken Garden Prize, and Show Me Yours, awarded the Midwest Poets Series Prize. In addition, she is co-author of the best-selling textbook Writing Poems, 8th ed. Recent awards include the Lynda Hull Memorial Poetry Prize from Crazyhorse and fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. Hadara is currently Associate Professor of English at the University of Missouri-Kansas City.

Blue

HADARA BAR-NADAV is the author of Lullaby (with Exit Sign), awarded the Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize; The Frame Called Ruin, Runner Up for the Green Rose Prize; and A Glass of Milk to Kiss Goodnight, awarded the Margie Book Prize. She is also the author of two chapbooks, Fountain and Furnace, awarded the Sunken Garden Prize, and Show Me Yours, awarded the Midwest Poets Series Prize. In addition, she is co-author of the best-selling textbook Writing Poems, 8th ed. Recent awards include the Lynda Hull Memorial Poetry Prize from Crazyhorse and fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. Hadara is currently Associate Professor of English at the University of Missouri-Kansas City.

Winter Weight

ELIZABETH CONARD is a 2015 BFA graduate from Johnson State College, where she studied creative writing and served as an intern for Green Mountains Review. She is currently pursuing teaching licensure and exploring the ever-exciting world of MFA programs, appropriately priced car insurance, and vegetarian cooking. Pamplemousse is her first publication.

Two Poems

CINDY E. KING‘s work appears or is forthcoming in Callaloo, North American Review, River Styx, Black Warrior Review, American Literary Review, jubilat, Barrow Street, African American Review. Originally from Cleveland, Ohio, she currently lives in Texas, where she is an Assistant Professor at the University of North Texas at Dallas.

Who Would Ever Know

Rebecca Macijeski received her MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts in 2011 and is currently studying toward a PhD in Poetry at University of Nebraska—Lincoln where she serves as an Assistant Editor in Poetry for Hunger Mountain and Prairie Schooner.

God’s Crowbar

The head and heart are separate, breathing creatures / existing on these killing plantations \ while the beets grow forth out of vengeance.

Today Is Not October Seventh

Naoko Fujimoto is a native of Japan. She is finding a home for her first poetry manuscript, “Radio Tower.” Her recent publications are in Prairie Schooner, Construction Literary Magazine, and NANO Fiction.

report from the outlying territory

LISA LEWIS’s books include The Unbeliever(Brittingham Prize), Silent Treatment (National Poetry Series), Vivisect, (New Issues Press), and Burned House with Swimming Pool (American Poetry JournalPrize, Dream Horse Press). A fifth volume, The Body Double, will be published in 2015 by Georgetown Review Presss. New work appears or is forthcoming in Florida Review, Carolina Quarterly, American Literary Review, Guernica, Sugar House Review, and Tampa Review. She directs the creative writing program at Oklahoma State University and serves as poetry editor for the Cimarron Review.

SPRING POEMS

Kyle Flak‘s recent things of poetry include WHAT HANK SAID ON THE BUS (Publishing Genius, 2013)(Winner of the Chris Toll Prize), THE SECRET ADMIRER (Adastra Press, 2010), and HARMONICA DAYS (New Sins Press, 2009). In 2013, he was a finalist for a Ruth Lilly Poetry Fellowship from The Poetry Foundation. In 2015, he was chosen as a “Poet to Notice” by Grandma Moses Press. His writing has recently appeared in Dragnet Anthology 1, Hart House Review, Makeout Creek, Mudfish, Poetry East, Spinning Jenny, Whiskey Island, and various other places.  He went to school at Northern Michigan University and the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. Currently, he works at a library and volunteers at The Haiku Foundation.

From The Tenement Sonnets

Not what we once were, wrapped tight in stinging / nettles, lottery cards etched in bad blood / upon our skins. Writhing, we lost ourselves

Dip His Balls In It

Dipped his balls in the sour cream / Dipped his balls in the salad dressing / Dipped his balls in the steak sauce / Dipped his balls in the mayonnaise / Dipped his balls in the eggnog

The Weight of Our Fathers

Why should we carry the names / our fathers? / Like it were a badge of pride, / For the alcoholics they’ve become,

The Tunnel

I watched a movie recently about a man, a machinist, who / runs-over and kills a woman and her young girl.

Infestation

Which of them had the idea / to write my name on an envelope, / seal itself in /

Two Poems

Major undertaking, Allegro / in the huge distance, and also Allegro / wondering, as if music itself / can wonder, why it wasn’t planted

Scratched

Her raspberry sweater / matched her lip gloss; / in red boots she glided / past bushes with bright berries.

Fencing Response

It happens like this: upon sustaining a severe blow to the head, the brain tells the arms to jut out in front of the body, in the same way that a fencer will hold out his foil in an act of aristocratic bellicosity just before all the lights go out. Almost adorable...

Equinox with Truck

The cats in the neighborhood—strays, gray as the gauzy in-between of dawn and sunrise—lounge open. October, and if they know winter's coming they don't show it. I looked for them the first months I noticed, checked beneath the car before driving wherever it was I...

domestic conversion scale

between the everything that will be forgotten + all that will not I live with my wife in a house big as I wished my fists would get when I was sixteen + my anger a fish I couldn't catch or count enance, say living's any -thing other than learning to be the river that...

Encyclopedic

Was the time I believed a tree the proper home for my lust + hope, not time but era maybe, epoch, spell of years in which I'd at night climb into limbs which overlooked a baseball field I never played on as a kid + wonder what would happen next while the stars mapped...

Playing Dead

To avoid being shot, my uncle, having hidden a Pole in his grandfather clock, rolls into an open snowy grave, lies face down. He holds his breath while Ukrainian Insurgent Army soldiers prod his leg with their guns, then disgruntled, shrug, swing their guns over their...

Mahogany Box

The funeral director lifts sealed ashes into flecks of sunlight, knows he’s just performed a small miracle, turned our mother into a well-made box my sister and I can drive home in the front seat of her convertible bug. In life, she was never that easy. He asks if...

The Alien Chose He, but Now Wants to Be a She

He likes lace—the way skin shows through no matter the color—a kind of unnatural camo. The permanent She, the human She is inconsolable. The alien asks questions to puzzle piece the grief. Her face is a storm cloud and She can’t formulate. It’s no secret. No...

Here Is What’s Left of Lake Bonneville

She is determined to see. Lock the creature in a still, share his looks with those who’ll listen. She takes a handful of diced tuna. Dabs the juice from the tin can on her collar bone. The lake is saltier than the sea, a pH between toothpaste and milk of magnesia....

Today I am a neighbor in the aisles of the store where just

Last week I walked right past my mother’s Twin sister who does live On the same hill in the same city and who sometimes I do See, but this was the first in the grocery, the one I prefer. This Is a strangeness. Living in Midst. My mother’s twin sister Matters in...

Hansel the husband he

says he’s hers. Happy at home, performing small chores, she washes white sheets. He helps with a hammer. In the middle of this who knows.

You make mention

of your Asian girlfriend. I too can tell beautiful eyes. I remember your wife, that pale comparison: she gave it all up ev-er-y night. I too make mention, though not in this get-up, fetching chicken at Safeway in a crush of mothers and old people, slowly, that's a fun...

The Day

gets slowly started: Hansel's asshole oatmeal spoon in a bowl down the hall in the kitchen, the intricate etching of many sets of breasts hanging low on the wall beside our bed. When I get up, first for the mirror: my hair is always amazing! Later, without fail --...