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Full-Text Articles in Arts and Humanities

The Legacy, Thomas Wagner Jan 1967

The Legacy, Thomas Wagner


"I hope." said Henley thoughtfully, "that when my number comes up. I go clean, all ai once." "Right. " said Stefansson. "I fold." He laid his cards on the table and began to pack his pipe, slowly and methodically. "Ain't nobody wants to get it like McCoy did."

Dark Offering, Ellen Feinberg Jan 1967

Dark Offering, Ellen Feinberg


Blood specked the soggy tips of the sagging branches, dripped onto the lower leaves and piled into pools, dried into clumps, on the matted roots...

Excursion, Mary Lou Lifka Jan 1967

Excursion, Mary Lou Lifka


12:24, 26, 27. She slid open the bottom drawer of her politely-black metal desk and carefully extracted a crumpled, brown sack. She kicked the drawer closed, masking the bag's betraying crinkle with the slam. Now a quick survey of the three long corridors extending from the reception area: clear. She swiveled out of her modestly-gold swivel chair and took 17 rapid steps down one of the corridors, to the room plaqued WOMEN...

Lenlow Biggs- Where Are You, Patricia Frey Jan 1967

Lenlow Biggs- Where Are You, Patricia Frey


lenlow biggs kept walking down the railroad ties one after another stepping on ties, then off, but walking, walking, walking, he saw nothing, he thought one thing that i am crazy, step off tie, i am crazy, step on tie. he decided to rest, he sat down between two ties...

Days Of The Gandy Dancers, Elizabeth Buckels Jan 1967

Days Of The Gandy Dancers, Elizabeth Buckels


BACK then, oh maybe fifteen-twenty years ago, we had a thing we called Gandy Dancer's Day. It wasn't any kind of a celebration we was inclined to look forward to, like the county fair or Sheldon's Carnival, and it didn't help none to know how good our chances was to get two or three days of it.

Summer Of Clover, Summer Of Trains, Paul Kratoska Jan 1967

Summer Of Clover, Summer Of Trains, Paul Kratoska


T h e clover field stretches down a long hill to a cluster of trees Where a pony stands, flicking his tail at persistent flies. Above the hills to the west, the sun is buried in a wall of boiling thunderheads. T h e boy watches as a cool, yellow silence drifts across the fields...

The Blues, John Lewis Jan 1967

The Blues, John Lewis


G REEK rubbed his eyes and looked up from his battered drums out into the gloom. "The Shadows—Jazz Center of 42nd Street"—but it didn't look much different from any other hole in the wall he'd been in in the last ten years. Same scarred-up round tables, same rotten watered drinks, same dirty light bulbs disguised with crinkled colored cellophane...

The Misadventure, Tija Spitsberg Jan 1967

The Misadventure, Tija Spitsberg


T REMEMBER afternoons on the terrace by the sea. I •*• would sit and read. Sometimes, I would pick a conversation out of the murmur of voices. I'd eavesdrop up to a half-hour on the more interesting ones. As the summer wore on, a lot of the faces became pretty familiar. We'd nod, somewhat hesitantly, as "familiar" strangers tend to do...

April Is The Cruelest Month, Patricia Frey Jan 1967

April Is The Cruelest Month, Patricia Frey


in april I sit in the pale grass and read a book, looking up then over the top of the page and seeing birds, crazy lousy birds there in the green-bud trees. singing...

Sisters Under The Skin, Mary Lutes Jan 1967

Sisters Under The Skin, Mary Lutes


C LARA, you may serve the breakfast." I systematically arranged the dishes, placing the warm plate directly in Iront of my sister, Emma Mar. As I handed her the tarnished silverware, I noticed gray wisps that had come loose from her bun.

Adolescence, Janet C. Brown Jan 1967

Adolescence, Janet C. Brown


Two wheeler driver with the child eyes, naively perverted thoughts, innocently sadistic mind, where have your fleeing hop-skip-jumps taken your perception-deception? Are your shooed feet pud-muddling or ONE-two-threeing ? And eyes, are you questioningly circling the sky or contemplating a running nylon? Choosing can loose time emancipate desires and perpetuate career-playing Otherwise you are chained to maturity...

Summer Night, Paul Kratoska Jan 1967

Summer Night, Paul Kratoska


It is better to be content with the copper chirp of crickets, The distant grind of trucks, Or the carved stillness of an empty room. It is better even to run; To board a train from the cracked brick platform, To close the night out and watch station lights Flicker roughly across the sleeping passengers...

Young Love, Anne-Marie Bjornstad Jan 1967

Young Love, Anne-Marie Bjornstad


He dragged her to the night-spots, all the night spots, until her arms ached and her tongue was sore. Then he called for a skinny-dip . . . and the scene sped to the ocean.

To The Lions, Funnyman, John Lewis Jan 1967

To The Lions, Funnyman, John Lewis


HTHE GAUDY sign at the bottom of the filthy stairway -**• flashed its message on and off .. . on and off. "Tonight unload your troubles on America's newest funnyman. The critics' choice for clown of the year—Blind John's presents the irresistible Bruce Kaplan."

The Princess And The Toad, Bob Johns Jan 1967

The Princess And The Toad, Bob Johns


O NCE long ago in a land far away, there was a magic forest. Few people ever ventured into the forest, and even fewer returned to tell about the wonders it contained. There was much speculation as to whether those who never returned had met with foul play at the hands of demons or had found a paradise so much better than their homes that they did not want to leave.

Round And 'Round, Eleanor Fernelius Jan 1967

Round And 'Round, Eleanor Fernelius


Two gone. . . the voice in approved fluctuations gouges respectful words into sun-warm-alabaster air stumbling as it touches eulogizing down the page

Goin' Home, Sandra Visser Jan 1967

Goin' Home, Sandra Visser


H I! MY name's Sam. What's yours?" I asked as I bounced onto the beat-up seat beside him. I settled my paper bag on one side where I could keep it from falling into the dirty aisle and popped my fist into my old catcher's mitt.

See Only The Sunset, Love Only The Sea, Andrea Carlisle Jan 1967

See Only The Sunset, Love Only The Sea, Andrea Carlisle


T HE GREEN room spun and finally settled to a slow swim as the bandages were removed from Keith's eyes. At the end of the bed was his mother, a lovely blur of piled hair and bright red mouth in a silly false attempt at a smile.

Brotherhood, Paul Kratoska Jan 1967

Brotherhood, Paul Kratoska


On the near south side The elevated runs down an alley, Sliding past small hotels With fire escapes climbing their sides. Through a chain link fence The sign says, "Roomettes for Men."

The Road To Excellence, Kathleen Hall Jan 1967

The Road To Excellence, Kathleen Hall


MARSHA clutched her mother's arm and hesitated in the dining room doorway. She'd hoped to get at a relatively inconspicuous table at the Scholastic Recognition Dinner, but her father was heading right for the speaker's platform. Her mother sensed what she was thinking and drew her on.

The Ceremony, Leslie Squires Jan 1967

The Ceremony, Leslie Squires


S T. PETERS, the boarding school outside Sidney, where my folks had sent rar. stood in a very provincial arrangement of eucalyptus trees. Th e ancient Gothic chapel was the largest building on the grounds.

Do I Dare Disturb The Universe, Barry Gross Jan 1967

Do I Dare Disturb The Universe, Barry Gross


"H EY, BUD, wait for ya mother ta cross ya from now on/' It was indeed unfortunate Alfred had not heard the cabdriver, for such a remark might well have served as a good ice-breaker this morning.

Tomorrows, Candy Carpenter Jan 1967

Tomorrows, Candy Carpenter


not even eternities are made to last when you're nineteen and the first moist-grass day of spring comes. it's a coats-off world of high-domed blue (was the sky this bright last year?)

Castles In The Air, Mary Lutes Jan 1967

Castles In The Air, Mary Lutes


MY VERY own. Tracy let the sand sift through her tiny toes as she shoveled more sand into her tin pail. A castle in the sandbox. It was to be just like she wanted it, maybe even better than the one in the Cinderella picture book.

Encounter, Tija Spitsberg Jan 1967

Encounter, Tija Spitsberg


Sometime you've got to face Running into yourself in the fog, And admit you can't erase The ledger of twenty-two years, And this grand barrage Of nothing but open space And the sky you're leaving behind, Not ever knowing exactly why...

In Concert, Anne-Marie Bjornstad Jan 1967

In Concert, Anne-Marie Bjornstad


Only they know how to alleluia. Firm, mellowed brown . . . He felt his breast, running hands down. Under a brow . . . eyes. Thrusting into song to the moon Bellowing lust and full-throated blackness...

Memory, Gene Honert Jan 1967

Memory, Gene Honert


TT WAS curious, and while I tasted that feeling, I uncon- •"- sciously lowered my book to the cluttered desk, and stared at the blankness of beige wall in front of me. I couldn't see Al, but I didn't have to...

R.F.K., Anne-Marie Bjornstad Jan 1967

R.F.K., Anne-Marie Bjornstad


Fishing, sailing, climbing . . . taken twice; Kid brother left behind Upsetting carts . . . eating apples. Upstart . . . you legend walk in shoes too big for you. Phenomenon, you're nothing but a restoration, A younger flicker of a deader flame.

Me, Charles Hoffman Jan 1967

Me, Charles Hoffman


I don't believe me But I'm not for real anyway I'm just a puff of smoke from my own pipe.

Substitutes, Karl Schilling Jan 1967

Substitutes, Karl Schilling


No abstract provided.