David, who I’m sure is on to bigger and better things than teaching “Intro to Fiction Writing”, read us the end of Tobias Wolfe’s “Bullet in the Brain” in that special sincere and awed voice that writers save for reading the words of other writers: “for now Anders can still make time. Time for the shadows to lengthen on the grass, time for the tethered dog to bark at the flying ball, time for the boy in right field to smack his sweat-blackened mitt and softly chant, They is, they is, they is.”
Posts Categorized: Indiana Review Online: an Undergraduate Project
I practice in the mirror—
fish-hook each corner of my mouth
with a nervous index finger and pull.
I practice my breathing,
brush the scale enamel off my teeth,
open my mouth wide like
the surgeon will do with his rod and reel hands.
they knew I was taking/which is to say they posed for me:/both with their bottom teeth jutting/out over their chins/like a 1966 Ford Thunderbird/taking off of a precipice/
papaw’s hand is over mamaw’s shoulder/his knuckles are/knotted by arthritis/(which he calls Arthur/who he calls a friend)/and the rest of his hands are roughened/from a childhood of setting, stripping, and hanging tobacco
that a certain silence sees,
and says nothing.
Kirstin Smith is a sophomore at the University of Missouri in Columbia pursuing a biology major. Her true love in life is art. Friends and family joke that she cannot cope in public without something to sketch on. When her hands aren’t stained with graphite, it’s because she hasn’t started the art for that day yet, and she hopes to one day spread her love for art to others. More of her art can be viewed on her Instagram at @FrankandJoe3.