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	<title>Contrary Magazine</title>
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	<link>https://contrarymagazine.com</link>
	<description>The Journal of Unpopular Discontent</description>
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		<title>The Human Landscapes of Edward Mc Whinney</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/the-contrary-landscapes-of-edward-mc-whinney/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Aug 2023 08:33:29 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4460</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Advice: Get the Farewell Right It was supposed to be the happiest day of the year. That’s what they all said at work; Andy boy, this is it, the best day of the year. The place was all abuzz with it. I got in the car and drove off. As I reversed out of the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Caught</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/caught/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Leah Browning]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2023 08:33:48 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4666</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[He found a woman on Tinder, but then she wanted to meet for the first time at her house. No woman had ever wanted to meet him at her house. They had some sort of rule book: a public place, a neutral location, an escape plan. Already, she wasn’t following instructions. It gave him an [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/two-poems-10/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Heather Truett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2023 08:32:52 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4674</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Haibun with Trump Flag Eve got a lot of property, huge garden, once she left Adam, moved out into the country, away from private trees, long lists of rules. She planted an apple orchard, fields of wheat, an orange grove, tossed seeds willy-nilly, so wildflowers would carpet her path. Bare feet and breasts, finally, freedom. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>About Dumbo</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/about-dumbo/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kaitlin Tan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2023 08:31:12 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4668</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It is, in simplest terms, an eyesore. A needle prick to the pupil. Imagine a wooden barrel, old and water worn. Take a chainsaw to its body, cut it into thin slices. Hang busted-open acorn shells onto its frame. Prop it onto a little stand. Now, make the whole thing a hundred times larger and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Four Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/four-poems/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sarah McCartt-Jackson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2023 08:30:18 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4679</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Leaving Why didn’t you just leave? I swam into a coastal cave that began to fill with water at high tide. Don’t you have family you could have gone to? The yellow finch by the porch brought his cigarette butts back to its nest in the avocado tree. How could you love someone like that? [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>At the Place of the Rapids</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/at-the-place-of-the-rapids/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Conor Robin Madigan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2023 08:27:40 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4670</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#8230; on account of his is a ripoff and makes my ears ring, she said. And on account of his havin too small teeth and a foreskin like a dry ass old sow lip. And could he had done it to no one stupider than Shawna. She got an ass like a damn growing balloon [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Someday, I Identify as a Prairie</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/someday-i-identify-as-a-prairie/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nnadi Samuel]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2023 08:26:55 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4676</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Glory be to the improper plot: this acre of hand tilled hibiscus &#38; the dying raven that slants midway, in collapsed grace. I am thankful for everything that lays chaotic. jagged landmass. raked mess of depression, inversely proportional to climate change— the way I discolor in summer. measuring tape laid to waste because, this is [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Not Yet Twenty</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/not-yet-twenty/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2023 08:25:45 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4672</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I watched a so-called art-house film with subtitles on the television. I watched for an hour, then as I made my way upstairs, though I was not yet twenty years old, I felt like an octogenarian film director carrying a megaphone in one hand and a script in the other. He moves up each step [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dionysius</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/dionysius/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jerusha Crone]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Apr 2023 08:33:54 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4617</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Sitting drinking red Gatorade in the bath, water almost scalding with clementine coriander flavored froth, I reformulate my metaphysics. That is, tonight I’ll rationalize my lust to calm my breath, settle deep indigo 'gainst my boyish chest as I sink down. A self of pure sensation—I see promise here.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Absolute Arse</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/absolute-arse/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Apr 2023 08:32:04 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4632</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Months devolve into weeks into days into hours, metaphysical weather accrues, sweaty office girls, labourers and butcher’s assistants soaked in deodorant wish for long life and health like the hall-porter-doorman. It still astonishes me, the sun and the summer and my thinking cap, the one with the hole in it.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Vanilla Sensibilities</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/vanilla-sensibilities/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rebecca Cawley-Hassall]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Apr 2023 08:31:41 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4636</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I don’t remember the affair that we had when we were co-workers, and I was 19, and you were 33. If I did remember...]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>What Colour Is A Gum Leaf And What Shape?</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/what-colour-is-a-gum-leaf-and-what-shape/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Emma Wilkins]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Apr 2023 08:30:40 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4634</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Perhaps I have the snake to thank. Before I saw it sliding, fast across the path, before I froze and watched it simply melt away, I hadn’t thought to fix my wandering gaze on ground. Nor noticed what I had been stepping on.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Refugee</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/the-refugee/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sandra Carlson Khalil]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2023 08:41:58 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4591</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The girl stopped me, motioning towards the open takeout container in my hands. She was no more than thirteen, her face open and empty as the moon that hung over Istanbul that night. She glanced at my husband, who shook his head no, then fixed her eyes back on the contents of my container: a [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Stars on the Ceiling</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/stars-on-the-ceiling/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[John Abbott]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2023 08:40:09 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4598</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The stars on the ceiling don’t glow much anymore. They haven’t since Miss Jessie left, or maybe it just seems like that. Either way, Nolan still looks at them as he lies awake. Mama Caswell swiped all his comics, and she won’t let him share a room with Lexie anymore. She never explained why either. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Miles and Music</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/miles-and-music/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Lesley Mahoney O'Connell]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2023 08:39:12 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4585</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My grandfather dies on the stairs, no doubt dressed from hat to socks in maroon and gold. He is ready for the game, ready to chant “For Boston” on behalf of the Boston College Eagles, but his heart has other plans. It lurches and works overtime, until it is done, his 50-year-old heart. The shock [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Freight</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/the-freight/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anna Ufaeva]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2023 08:38:08 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4596</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[    The snow was disintegrating into a puddle beneath my feet at the cliff where I’d been standing for the past four hours, keeping my eyes sharply peeled as I was commanded. I was unnecessarily prudent, I was fulfilling the order punctiliously, although I couldn’t feel my toes anymore. Wrapped up in thick, harsh [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Saturnine</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2023/saturnine/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2023 08:37:30 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2023]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4588</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[On All Souls Day, I descended the infinite well of marble steps, down and down, it was a bank holiday in Catalonia with businesses closed so the street gave off that dull, saturnine feeling of old Irish Sunday afternoons, though it was a Friday. On All Souls Day, I walked for eight hours, my thoughts [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Weekend in Aubervilliers</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/a-weekend-in-aubervilliers/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nick Sweeney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:37:53 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4470</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I’d seen the guy in the leather jacket out the corner of my eye. When he caught me up at the entrance to the Metro I absently moved out of his way as I felt for my ticket.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/three-poems-by-karis-lee/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Karis Lee]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:35:24 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4475</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Sometimes I wonder if I should not be a teacher +++ because children terrify me with their tenderness. Danny, before he hated me, would hand me sticks of green gum wrapped in paper, “For you Miss” scrawled between the lines. This was back when we were generous with our laughter, before I began locking my [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Blush, Revenge, Utterance</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/three/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hannah Bonner]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:33:39 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4467</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Gena Rowlands confessed on only one occasion that she almost left John Cassavetes while filming Opening Night. There was something about the slap, the lunge for it, that shred both her &#038; Myrtle Gordon’s nerves.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Glioblastoma : Starlight</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/glioblastoma-starlight/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anna Leahy]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:31:46 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4486</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Astrocytes in the brain seem as numerous and shapely as stars in the universe, but when the stars in your brain go awry, they behave like dark energy, changing the shape of time. You see time’s boundaries. Constraints get into your blood and bones, a double-barreled two years of choices to make on days you [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Intruder, 14</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/the-intruder-14/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Marie Biondolillo]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:29:29 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4490</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In February, twilight washes over this part of California at 5 p.m. Gerald stayed at school as long as possible, so he wouldn’t have to do this in broad daylight. But even as the shadows lengthen, forcing him to watch his step on the root-broken sidewalk, he doesn’t trust those passing cars.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/two-poems-by-chinedu-gospel/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Chinedu Gospel]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:27:00 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4492</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Crossing Benue after reading Nnadi Samuel burnt consonants laid at my feet. ++++++++I begin this poem where the vowel            ends. it ends inside a                lagoon. this                voyage, a ++++journey into history.            [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>This Afternoon in Washington Square</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/4499/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Catherine Chiarella Domonkos]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:25:54 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4499</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[This afternoon in the kitchen, Robby and I chase each other around the table— Hey hey we’re the Monkees—until my dad comes booming in shouting about the damn racket at this hour on a Saturday. He’s a security guard and worked all night long. Robby holds my hand. I try not to pee.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/two-poems-by-bethany-f-brengan/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bethany F. Brengan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2022 08:23:17 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2022]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4502</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[How to Tell the Difference Between a Raven and a Crow One. For sorrow or joy, crows are the abacus of the common people. Two. The Tlingit know a duality of Ravens: creator and thieving trickster. They don’t always differentiate. Three. If you are asking, it’s a crow. Both birds are bigger than you think [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Death Excavation</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/death-excavation/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nadia K. McGlinn]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2022 08:41:18 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4450</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The photograph shows the falls flinging down colossal volumes of water with so much violence, some shatters into a mist. The roar must be terrifying, sweeping all commercialism aside, the pink-and-red bridal suites irrelevant, a primal force that announces its plan to use the couples gazing at it for its own ends.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/three-poems-by-despy-boutris/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Despy Boutris]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2022 08:35:58 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4442</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[On Gratitude Outside, crows roost on telephone wires and the palm trees sway in the wind. Across the street, an elated dog drags its owner toward the fire hydrant. For breakfast, I’ll brew tea and microwave oatmeal and bask in the scent of cinnamon. I’ll go outside to pick limes from the tree, inhale the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/three-poems-by-rae-hoffman-jager/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rae Hoffman Jager]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2022 08:34:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4447</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Stillbirth The sun bursts in through bathroom window like an opinionated Aries, drives its body into the shower with me— lights up every edge of tile, curve of fundal mound: I am still swollen with death, leaking bright red blood. My wounded body brought a blue boy into this world with his eyes sealed shut. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/two-poems-by-renee-emerson/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Renee Emerson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2022 08:33:53 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4439</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Fern at the St. Louis Children’s Hospital I didn’t know it was live until a child began picking leaves from the fronds, letting them drop to the floor like those long hospital minutes. No one stopped her, bent as we were to our tight economy of form paperwork, hoping if we fill it right, insurance [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Plaster Room</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/the-plaster-room/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2022 08:33:36 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4453</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My first death was way back when I signed a contract for the job as hall porter in the Happy Valley Refrigeration Company. Reserved and cool in my brand-new uniform, I waited every morning on The Bridge Corner for the bus.  Every morning for two months she passed me as I waited for my bus [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>After the  Joy of the Grad School Acceptance Email Dissipates. Or: On Dread</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/after-the-joy-of-the-grad-school-acceptance-email-dissipates-or-on-dread/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sean Cho A.]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2022 08:31:12 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4445</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[night class means wonder. means future pay-bump. or the spring acceptance letter means i’ll see you next decade. it’s selfish to pack up all your dinner plates and say I’ll be back before you know it! tonight i’m feeling sentimental. i want to believe that geese fall in love once &#38; forever. but that isn’t [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Silvia</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/silvia/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:54:08 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4394</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The radio said that Silvia would be a category one hurricane. Hours before her arrival I developed a grade-one buzzing in my ears, much more troubling than a common tinnitus. I feared that Silvia’s song would knock the rhythm of the heart out of synch, the little dynamo would go crazy, initiating a loud whirring that would make dogs growl and whine, sending all of nature into a spin, for once subduing the daily uproar of the streets.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Other Acapulco</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/the-other-acapulco/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shirley Hilton]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:53:14 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4391</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The rain came down that day in angry, ruthless sheets, turning the hillsides to mud, pushing the workers’ shanties down toward the beach, toward the fancy hotels where they labored serving the tourists who now huddled at the bar, little umbrellas poking their noses, as they sipped tequila and waited out the storm. But we [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/three-poems-by-evan-gurney/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Evan Gurney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:49:16 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4397</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Humpty Dumpty Asks What Happened While you wandered through anesthetic dreams, they shaved your head sleek as a hard-boiled egg, carved a curved incision into its side, and pulled your jaw muscle up to the roots, drilled open your skull and set the jigsaw pieces, carefully, where they could find them. Then they shoved your [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Song of Silence</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/a-song-of-silence/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[McKenna Shea]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:47:58 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4389</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I am young when I meet him. I don’t think I am (no one does at eighteen), but I am. At that age, I think I’m queen of the world. Level-headed, responsible, mature to a fault. Careful. Reserved. In the grand span of life, he’s young too, but not as young as me. At twenty-four, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Requiem and Resurrection on Easter</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/requiem-and-resurrection-on-easter/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Martin Willitts Jr]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:41:22 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4400</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[+++++I. +++++Kyrie Have mercy —+++++there is too much grief +++++grinding in our heart: an unrelenting rain spelling poignantly on the streets and the bright pebbles, +++++on the common places sparrows find for cover — +++++have mercy — scatter over the land, dreamingly. It’s May +++++and your appalled face is everywhere: ++++++++++look upon us, have mercy.+++++Look [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dark Matter</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/dark-matter/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Mandira Pattnaik]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:35:48 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4403</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[If the boy continues to ruminate, he’ll have dark thoughts. No one to stop him. Not even the girl he is always thinking about, the one who plays with toads, talks to them, and squints hard when he talks to her, when they meet near the village square.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Samuelle</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/samuelle/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jonathan Calloway]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:30:45 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4405</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Grandma Cillie has never said a word about the three weeks spent at her sister’s when she sought distance from what was happening with my Uncle Avery. Good thing Grand Aunt Moll talks, or I would still be dreaming of guessed-up scenes:  So, Cillie all day indoors at the kitchen table, beside sliced homegrown pear [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>We Were Girls Once, Dancing</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/we-were-girls-once-dancing/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Curtis Smith]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:29:06 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4422</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I cup my hand to the DJ’s ear. We’ve stumbled into that sloppy part of the night. The cake cut. The bouquet tossed. The grandparents and children on their way to bed, and the men around the bar loosen their ties and order another round.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>To the Family on the Overnight Train</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/to-the-family-on-the-overnight-train/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Ele Pawelski]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Apr 2022 08:29:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4424</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I arrived first. Empty, the train compartment welcomed me with silence and glorious space. A temporary respite while I got sorted out. Years of travelling on the fly had taught me that solutions could be invented for every problem, even if far from perfect. By the time you entered, I’d fully lodged in. I might [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/two-poems-9/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kan Ren Jie]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2022 08:51:41 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4381</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Excursion, in the Year of Unmaking Hoping to descend from the year of unmaking – we went, that evening, for a walk. In the park there was a house, burnt in demolition. Don’t look at it – my mother said. Like trumpets, the flowers were crowing. The petals, this evening gold: as the stagnant water [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Hours in Central Pennsylvania</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/three-hours-in-central-pennsylvania/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Matt Barrett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2022 08:49:41 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4367</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Hour 1 He said his folks would like me. He used that word, “folks,” and I asked if that’s how people spoke “in these parts.” He laughed. Danny’s mother sat on the porch and greeted us in the street. His father gardened in the backyard. They lived in a duplex in Gettysburg, and their neighbor, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/two-poems-8/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Adam Hughes]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2022 08:37:55 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4379</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Lovely is the World —after Yehuda Amichai It is still early in this century and there is still a lingering scent of hope, and flowers still decorate cemeteries and even in camps where families offer bread-prayers mixed with elegies children play tag in razorwire alleys and lovely is the world that forgets its own name [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Very Short Stories</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/three-very-short-stories/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Chelsea Stickle]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2022 08:33:09 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4362</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I was trying to help when I told you what I saw him do. How he slipped his hands into her back pockets to bring her close.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>How Deep in the Valley</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/how-deep-in-the-valley/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Roseanne Freed]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2022 08:19:56 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4377</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[While passing the time in a coffee shop with a latte and Facebook, a photo pops up of you on a lawn of dandelions. I laugh to see your elfin face, short, punky, chestnut hair, silver ring in your nose. Salut Mahalia you didn’t die! It&#8217;s been a bad dream. I look again. I see [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Magpie of Superstitions</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/the-magpie-of-superstitions/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Liam Hogan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2022 08:17:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4365</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Breaking my journey at Cheshunt I throw bones under the disinterested gaze of commuters. The omens are not auspicious. They never are, some would say. With Saturn quincunx to Virgo I am, as the stars dictate, approaching London from the North. A long and tedious journey given it began on the chalk and flint hills [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>What Filled The Room</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2022/what-filled-the-room/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Richard Jeffrey Newman]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2022 08:15:58 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2022]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4374</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I don’t remember how young I was, but I can still see the wooden bench I sat on to untie my favorite blue sneakers and the row of beige metal lockers I and my fellow campers faced as we rushed to undress for swim. I can’t recall a single boy’s name from the group I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Myth of Chang’e</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/the-myth-of-change/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Q.Y. Tie]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:39:59 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2021]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4307</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Chang’e is a god, but one to be pitied. For millennia, no one has begged anything of her, for no one envies her. Though she receives offerings, they are a kind of cruelty, a cruelty of kindness:]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/two-poems-by-moriah-cohen/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Moriah Cohen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:37:23 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4310</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Phototaxis It’s a process, opening back doors after dusk: unlock, dim lights so flies and moths don’t cloud the porch sconce, suicide windows, try to squeeze through the yawn of a door kicked, rasping, shut. In English, “admission” means entry, allowance and confession, two punched tickets, a mini of Jameson I purse then spike my [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Body of the Man that Remains</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/the-body-of-the-man-that-remains/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Michael Keenan Gutierrez]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:35:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4312</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It is spring in California and the clouds won’t burn off and the water looks dusty.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Hypnosis</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/hypnosis/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Leah Callen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:33:00 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2021]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4314</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[After dark, the prairie ripens with desire. Fields of want and dust vibrate under your feet with lust. Cicadas, crickets, locusts all jump in your blood as the light shyly melts, blushes in heat and the insistent stars come on. It’s hard to hear the hot music panting at your earlobes, pulsing in your head, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Invasive</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/invasive/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Mary Pigliacelli]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:31:46 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4324</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I had been thinking towards the death of my mother for years. How would I grieve? How would our story, sparse as it was, end? And then it happened: My mother, who I had never met, who I had spoken to once on the phone for under a half-hour six years earlier, died.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>In Preparation for That Which Will Inevitably Wreck Me</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/in-preparation-for-that-which-will-inevitably-wreck-me/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Christine Naprava]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:29:42 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4318</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[What will I do when so far from now my memory conjures up the sunbaked scent of my mother, the sharp sweat stench of my father? The cologne of an ex on the clothes of a new one, the coffee factory workers at the end of a long day, the pain-relieving gels and creams that [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>When I Say Yes I Will Yes</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/when-i-say-yes-i-will-yes/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Agata Izabela Brewer]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:28:19 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2021]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4316</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[which I don’t, but imagine for a moment that I marry my English turnkey. I pour beer at King’s Arms. I push buttons when drunks throw glass at the karaoke machine. I duck. I walk home at midnight along Uxbridge Road. I take the Tube to High Street Kensington at six to scrub rich people’s toilets]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/three-poems-8/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Fran Schumer]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Oct 2021 08:27:55 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4321</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Mania Just writing the word scares me. I said, “Of course you’re not manic.” You said, “They noticed how quickly I moved, a car speeding through red lights my words piling up, crashing into each other, screeching to a halt like an ambulance at a hospital.” You said, “They said I seemed alive, on fire, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>When We Were Girls</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/when-we-were-girls/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Julianna Baggott]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:33:25 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4258</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I’m lying on the edge of the lake. My head is cupped by ice-crusted mud. My hands and bare feet tingle. A cop is there, hovering over me. She’s a black woman in her thirties, her eyes wet and shining from the cold wind. She wears a knit winter hat, dark blue with a police [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Love and Trouble</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/love-and-trouble/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Christie Tate]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:31:57 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4261</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I opted to change my status from “virgin” to “non-virgin” on January 16, 1991, the same night that George H. W. Bush’s White House announced Operation Desert Storm, a U.S. military operation with the aim of expelling occupying Iraqi forces from Kuwait. I was a senior in high school, and it was my boyfriend Kal’s [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Any Other Night</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/any-other-night/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Carly Parker-Plank]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:27:58 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4256</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I am pumping gas after work at an intersection I have frequented many times after dark without incident. I leave the pump unattended, am sitting in my car scrolling on my phone while the meter ticks off dollars and gallons beneath the fluorescents. I hear the click of the pump’s auto shut off and open [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dear Parents, Know This</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/dear-parents-know-this/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sarah Twombly]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:25:32 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4254</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Somewhere in your epoch of child-rearing—with babe on hip or perhaps much later—you will shatter completely. You will be destroyed. How could it be any other way? When your children cry, I do not need you; when your children cry I do not want you; when they cry, I need you and I want you, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Sales Force</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/sales-force/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Meg Pokrass and Jeff Friedman]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:23:26 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4263</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Sold A saleswoman and her customer meet in an alley. They kiss as if they already know each other. “Your skin still smells like easy money,” he whispers, running his hand through her hair. “Damn right it does,” she says, nuzzling her nose against his wool coat. “Beautiful, soft wool,” she says. “Where did you buy [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/two-poems-by-erin-murphy/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Erin Murphy]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:22:50 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4274</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Taxonomies: Me, Too I. Gloves Marshmallow-thick ski gloves. A pair strung from toddler sleeves. Lost mate waving from a puddle. The snapped rubber glove that splits open on the orthodontist’s hand. Ever had one break on you, dear? he sneers, his breath hot in my teen-girl ear. II. Late Arrivals The every-other-weekend father, daughter at the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Across the Valley</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/across-the-valley/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Genevieve Abravanel]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:21:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4266</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I’m a cosplayer, but not the usual kind. I’m a person pretending to be a robot pretending to be a person.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/three-poems-by-jared-beloff/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jared Beloff]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:19:19 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4276</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A Florida man &#8216;thumbed&#8217; an alligator in the eye to rescue his dog from a &#8216;death roll&#8217; (Or this is how we say “I love you”) When he gets around to the duty of fathers, you can hear David Attenborough’s voice raise its eyebrows, amused by an accident: see how the fox takes to his [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Outis Odysseus</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/outis-odysseus/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Catherine Rockwood]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:19:04 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4280</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[He has been gone // a lifetime. In the interval, another olive tree from a dropped pit. The prime of a fleet hound who knew all day each minute’s different scent. Ask Argos: is the world Odysseus or not-Odysseus? He’d tell you rabbit-spoor, goatshit, the bread flat-broiled in a pan and how he stole it, which [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Why Annie Oakley and Dolly Parton Had No Children</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/why-annie-oakley-and-dolly-parton-had-no-children/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sara Moore Wagner]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jul 2021 08:18:58 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4282</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Mother rhinestone, mother curled lashes, great head of the household asleep with foam rollers in her hair, wound into spirals. Unravel, comb out, spray up to heaven and higher, high as the ladder daddy nailed into the tree so we could climb it—that high. Be you splinter on the heel of your brother, be you [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dissociate</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/dissociate/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sarah McCartt-Jackson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:59:57 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4201</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My oldest didn’t know where her body began and her mind ended. She couldn’t feel the sensation of embodiment, as if she were always afloat in astral projection. She could swallow, could walk, could love the way cicadas drowned out lake ripples. She could stay awake for days over the sight of a blue-eyed boy [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Goodnight Noises Everywhere</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/goodnight-noises-everywhere/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Madilyne Igleheart]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:58:16 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4207</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“There’s a bit of an animist bent—everything has a spirit—but the expected &#8216;Paranormal Activity&#8217; plot never develops. He says goodnight to everything, but nothing says goodnight back. Could be improved if something replied. Would be perfect if something ate him.” ~ Michael Y. Zions, one-star Amazon review of Goodnight Moon.  ONE: The Animist Bent  I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>(electricity)</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/electricity/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Daisy Bassen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:56:24 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4197</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[What is less real than the daughters I dreamed, With their terrible, Homeric names, Mare And Nightmare, how are they any less real Than the daughters I never conceived, the months Of bleeding when anything else was impossible, The months when I waited to see if I was not alone? None of them have the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>5-2</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/5-2/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:55:27 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4211</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[One morning in early November, a letter arrived in the post.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/three-poems-by-joe-wilkins/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Joe Wilkins]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:50:32 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4203</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Dear Life, the tree of which my son sleeps beneath or sometimes doesn&#8217;t, depending on the vicissitudes of the day before the night, &#38;, too, the blackness of the night itself, though let&#8217;s put aside questions of time &#38; time&#8217;s vagaries &#38; begin instead with the Atlantic sturgeon, a specimen of which I observed yesterday [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Swoon Theory</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/the-swoon-theory/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[M. Price]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:44:46 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4236</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My friend messages me:
YOU ARE TOO GOOD TO BE THE OTHER WOMAN.
I want to respond:
WHO CONSTRUCTED THE PARAMETERS OF GOODNESS? ]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Love Fugue</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/love-fugue/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[P.L. Watts]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:35:04 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4180</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Exposition Jamelle Raizer, my birth mother, was the first in her family to marry a non-Jew. She had long, dark curly hair. Sang as she stepped out of the shower. She gave me away and checked herself into a hospital. When she came out, she tried to take me back. CPS stepped in. “These are [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>What If All Our Sex Rituals Were Narrated By David Attenborough? (or Maybe Love is Only a Chemistry Problem We Are Trying to Forget)</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/what-if-all-our-sex-rituals-were-narrated-by-david-attenborough-or-maybe-love-is-only-a-chemistry-problem-we-are-trying-to-forget/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jared Beloff]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:33:23 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4199</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I want David Attenborough’s rich, flowing voice. I want him to focus on the finer details under the dim light of our kitchen, the place where love and dancing around the right sequence of lucky accidents happens. Indeed, there’s more than just the splatter of spaghetti simmering by the back burners. I want David to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Artifact</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/the-artifact/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Angela J. Latham]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:27:24 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4183</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I cautiously pick up the well-worn Bible. It’s been years since I opened it, but I used to carry it around with me quite a lot. In those days I attended an evangelical college and we often had our Bibles––in class, chapel services, during talks with friends. The hardback cover is still a little sticky [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Artist of the Ugly</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/the-artist-of-the-ugly/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Matthew Burnside]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 08:21:12 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4230</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[THE INCIDENT The pensive screen blinked and The Writer could feel his heart pinging. Thirteen years of work, one page, swallowed into an abyss of lost-forever sentences in less than a second. Manically he stroked his chin, as if his beard were dripping off. Waves of grief passed over him. Perhaps not wholly irrecoverable? The [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Swan Garden</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/swan-garden/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Lucy Zhang]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2021 08:59:38 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4147</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[There are six swans in the backyard. They stay so close to the house that I can make out the jagged parts of their beaks when they aim for insects in the shallow, man-made pond. I can make out the unfeathered patch of skin between eyes and bill. They wear their faces like they aren’t [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Honeycomb</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/honeycomb/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2021 08:57:13 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4153</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The sun dawdled on the yellow windowsill. The house was quiet. Noisy youths played ball in the street, but all was silent inside. I was as quiet as an owl in a barn, too quiet for my neighbour, Victoria, queen of the fifth floor who said I was melancholic, and that word soup was more preferable than my quietude. I was [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Down by the River</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/down-by-the-river/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Harper Warner]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2021 08:56:59 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4160</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[There was a small house on the bank of the Suwannee that slanted down towards the root-beer-colored water. The house was one room, the side wall a sliding glass door overlooking the sturgeons that belly-flopped downstream. The carpet was tattered and torn; the pullout couch was moldy and musty. The Frigidaire dripped because the mice [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>End of the Line</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/end-of-the-line/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Adam Dalva]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2021 08:55:23 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4151</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Allison was going to get married in Ronkonkoma, so I was waiting for the train. Summer heat shimmered over the Jamaica Station tracks. There had been a run on air conditioners; newly-installed models tilted at perilous angles out of New York’s windows. My traveling outfit—a gray tee and homemade cut-offs that dangled sloppy fringe—was drenched [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Anatomy of a Rejection</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/anatomy-of-a-rejection/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Scott Bane]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2021 08:50:05 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4156</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You stand on the corner of 50th Street and 2nd Avenue on a Friday night waiting for the traffic light to change and trying to decide what you’re going to do tonight: Read The Anatomy of Melancholy or fill-out financial aid forms for graduate school? You think that there must be something that you would [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Fear North</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2021/fear-north/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Timilehin Alake]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2021 08:48:23 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2021]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4162</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Eight years ago, before Boko-Haram were nothing but tales that echoed out of the distance; before the word Sambisa rang ominous, bearing the mark where the rest of the north would erupt into a convulsing volcano; before the streets became littered with the dead: of ill-equipped soldiers, children, and their hapless, crying mothers, mowed down [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Convertible</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/convertible/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Greg Tebbano]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:58:36 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4090</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Angela comes awake in the night. A commotion outside. She paws Tomas’ side of the bed for an elbow, a fingertip, a soft curl. There is only the pressed sheet. In those first moments torn from sleep—before the soul has a chance to seat—she swims in fear. Then she remembers: Tomas is away. He is [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dear John James Audubon</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/dear-john-james-audubon/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cindy Hunter Morgan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:54:51 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4096</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I hung suet early this year, not because I was particularly organized but because I was eager for the companionship of birds.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Last Motherhood of Shirley Jackson</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/the-last-motherhood-of-shirley-jackson/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Eliza Browning]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:52:21 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4094</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[People disappear. Up Glastenbury ++++++++++and down the mountainside, through Somerset township and Bennington. ++++++++++Paula Jean Welden, 18, vanished on December 1, 1946. She was last seen ++++++++++on the Long Trail just before dark. In this story she is Natalie, fresh-faced ++++++++++and virginal, feet in the dewy grass. Another daughter abjected. She makes ++++++++++a mark in [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dragon Dreams</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/dragon-dreams/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Melanie Bell]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:50:33 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[A tiny baby dragon would have served us well, I think.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/two-poems-6/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Susan Comninos]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:49:10 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4121</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[DURING COVID, SHE DREAMS OF LEAVING A MASKED MAN +++++++++++++++++++++++and then after, telling him why Because we were the bones of bees++++++++++++++++++++++++and too fragile to last beyond the hive: that basket of simple++++++++++++++buzzing Because everything about salt and jab was precisely++++++++++++++what I liked Because your skin and mine had become++++++++++++++++++++a contamination Because I could stroke [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>I Will Love You Fiercely, Stranger</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/i-will-love-you-fiercely-stranger/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Julia TenBroeck]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:48:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4113</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In the old section of Kolkata there is an even older, sacred section known as Kalighat. This neighborhood is dedicated to the Hindu goddess Kali and is said to be an auspicious place to die.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems from the Book of James</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/three-poems-from-the-book-of-james/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Eric Wayne Dickey]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:47:44 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4126</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[for James David Dickey, 3/3/1966 – 10/22/2008 &#160; Etta James Was it you I saw, you full-figured soulstress, in the skinny white boy of my brother? Was it the way he threw back his black hair, messing around, singing, “can I get a witness? A witness!” He never listened to a bent dime of the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Long Way</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/a-long-way/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:46:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4115</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Pearl sat between me and Moone in the cabin of my van. Moone was driving because Moone insisted on driving. I didn’t argue. We sailed through the Jack Lynch tunnel and struck north on the N20. We were headed to Moone’s aunt’s mansion in Tipperary to pick up some paintings and antiques and a grandfather [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/two-poems-7/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Michele N. Harmeling]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:45:15 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4130</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[100 Feathers Tied In Bundles (Leda, after the Swan) ++++++++++from “Use,” by Derick W. Burleson How cruel to pluck so many small instruments of flight, we think, seeing these laid neatly out as if to market. How cold and afraid the poor fowl must be: jet black (Cayuga drake), soft gray (domestic ganders), pure white [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Walk-On</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/walk-on/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Adam Dalva]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:44:40 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2020]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4117</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[1 A theater. The exterior buzzes with the usual strangers and that winter’s night sensation of vibrating air. What a shame to give up on it and enter. Inside, people won’t be stepping crunchy steps. Why not keep on walking instead, walk until you reach a forest, walk until you reach the type of strangers [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Songs of Myself</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/songs-of-myself/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Eugenio Volpe]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2020 08:42:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4119</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Nine-year-old me hoofing it down a wooded road of vinyl homes, delivering the afternoon paper at nightfall. A streetlamp turns on, spotlighting my wretchedness. I sing the “Welcome Back Kotter” theme song so hard that I make myself cry. I’m seventeen. My friend Lenny is late picking me up to go surfing. I call his [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Black Lives Matter</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/blacklivesmatter/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Contrary Magazine]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 25 Jun 2020 17:39:37 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4067</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Contrary Magazine supports the protests against racist injustice. We support demonstrations in support of black lives and civil rights. We oppose the violence of the police, incitement of violence by the police, abuses of power by the police. Contrary mourns the deaths of so many people of color at the hands of the police and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Bathwater</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/bathwater/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Gauraa Shekhar]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:38:27 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4013</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Susan was from Beijing and didn’t speak much English. She took long, hot baths that left the mirrors afog and the floor pooled with water. And though we lived together, I didn’t know much about her, beyond her bathing inclinations and her quiet resentment towards the MTA, which she expressed to me once, the only [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Asp &#038; Venom</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/asp-venom/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kassandra Montag]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:36:57 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4022</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I. Upstairs in the kitchen, a small girl holds a viper straight against the table so her father can slit its belly and drain the blood. On assignment in this Vietnamese restaurant I photograph the locals, ceramic dishes painted in batik patterns, fires in the kitchen, and bottles of rice wine in the basement infused [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Roy</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/roy/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Donna D. Vitucci]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:35:12 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4015</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Feel bad for Roy, for the shitty way you were with him.  Whatever you did was nothing, and  so it was something. Roy’s hands were bumpy with warts and you didn’t want to be his link during Farmer-in-the-Dell or Red Rover. During Swinging Statues, you yelled, “Don’t move, Roy!” from wherever you flung him with [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Creeping Thief</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/the-creeping-thief/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sage Ravenwood]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:34:08 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4019</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Deathly quiet is spelled with Four letters+++D E A F The creeping thief stole My noise++snuck inside nightly Covering my ears as if I were a child who didn’t need To hear++descending quieten Listen how closely Deaf and Death rhyme Speak the same language A never-ending river flowing Beneath a soul rendering Quiescence++I’m not a [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Because I Would Not Write the Moon for You, but for Me</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/because-i-would-not-write-the-moon-for-you-but-for-me/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bill Capossere]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:34:05 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4011</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Because you huddled weeping in your seat as our car arrowed its way to your childhood home. Because “arrowed,” not sped nor raced nor hurried.  Because Diana. Because goddess and hunt and especially moon. Because words. Because allusion. Because this is what I do. Even while you cry. Because you were only an hour earlier [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Ave Maria</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/ave-maria/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[J.L. Wall]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:33:17 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4028</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Whom parents sold among Roman soldiers Who limps on her cane between their thighs Blessed among women, baskets of dried fruit On her arm, dates and apricots This apparition of the desert solstice Broken mirage slumped on a cane Her feet plastic bags Shark-tooth thorns for her hair Younger still than her son than Christ [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>This Is How It Goes</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/this-is-how-it-goes/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Oline Eaton]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:32:18 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4009</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You will reap what you have sown, she says. Day and night, she says this, in a thin voice, taut with eighty-nine years of unexpressed emotion. Her God always was vengeful. Well, seems now he’s coming to get us all. Anger does wonders for her mobility. She’s not been this nimble in years. This tiny [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Hydrangea</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/hydrangea/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[T.J. Moretti]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:26:47 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4024</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I ease pink through blue. I sulfur black and pluck yellows to keep greens. Stamen hide under white unions. I feed buds into being and untangle. Pink to blue, nutrients can squeeze their way shut. Hands might turn the child, chart last beats, rub feet, blame the cord, mother the blame. Eyes might shift, cross, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>An Experiment</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/an-experiment/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Albe Harlow]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Apr 2020 08:24:16 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4017</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Just as Eleanor Winters was sitting down at the head of the supper table that had been set up outside, beyond the shore and, against all desires of her family, on the wooden dock, she looked at her husband, Xavier, as he tucked his serviette under his collar like a mutineer. His attachment to me, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Forage</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/forage/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jim Krosschell]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:33:11 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3961</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[… is what you do in your wild daily life. I imagine a human equivalent, squatting on a tightrope, say, holding an artichoke in both hands, peeling its leaves away, and eating the tender ends as I sway back and forth. To compete with you, I’d have to finish the whole artichoke in about a [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>It Begins with Getting Up</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/it-begins-with-getting-up/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hannah Beilenson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:32:54 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3967</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Because he doesn’t tire of waking me, I practice bird calls on the front porch, keep a whistle in the groove of my palm. Thinking me a lover, the small thing preens himself on the goldenrod. I flap my hands into jazz. That modal shift. That pitch swift lift from root to branch. I know [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>After Hours</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/after-hours/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Heather De Bel]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:28:35 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3970</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I used to go to clubs with a girl whose father hanged himself on her thirteenth birthday. I liked to go out with her because she would get just as fucked up as I would. We weren’t proud of it. We weren’t ashamed, either. It was just the way we were. She liked to drink [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/two-poems-4/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Ashley Inguanta]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:26:56 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3974</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You, As Orlando Of course Queen Elizabeth would have loved you as you handed her rosewater. Only you would have questioned so much, changed her. You wouldn’t have liked being a man, but at the time that’d be all you’d ever known. You’d find peace in the way a woman could feel body and beyond [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Over the Air</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/over-the-air/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Diane Lefer]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:24:43 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3972</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[When my body disobeys, that proves it’s mine. Someone else’s doesn’t have to obey me. And these days my body refuses the simple ordinary things it is supposed to do. It doesn’t want to get out of bed, does so reluctantly, only to lie on the couch watching junk TV. These days my body has [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Phone Call to My Mother on Her Last Birthday</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/phone-call-to-my-mother-on-her-last-birthday/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Amy Williams]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:22:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3965</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I listen to her voice, the intonations, wanting to memorize the contours of her vowels, wanting to be contrapuntal. She’s smiling at her breakfast, eggs this morning that she made; she might use pepper and there&#8217;s a breath mark when she looks at my father looks with her walnut eyes eyes that are so tired [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Fancy Me</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/fancy-me/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shannon Stolz]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:20:37 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3980</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It creeps out through your mouth when you sleep, bone by bone, then reconnects at the foot of your bed. Rail-thin knuckles wrap around your doorknob before it slides through. Outside, the night air seeps into marrow under the gaze of the yellow-eyed moon. Other skeletons sneak from houses and join in the neighborhood’s shadows [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/two-poems-5/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kristen Baum DeBeasi]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:18:12 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3982</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Sea of Glass I have lost my way in my grandma’s paradise, she instructing me to mend my ways or I won’t go to heaven with her and me wondering, “Is this the fork in the road,” and, “should I take it?” Grandma’s paradise presses angry clefts in my knees, stultifies me against hardwood pews, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Raspberries</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2020/raspberries/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Dianne Moritz]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jan 2020 08:10:15 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2020]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3959</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Before we left for home that Iowa summer, Gramma handed me a green sprig from her raspberry thicket, the taste of tart, red berries, smothered with cream and sugar, still fresh on my tongue. Somewhere in Colorado, I carefully hid the jarred cutting in a small box beneath a pile of beach towels. We were [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Hey Christian Girl</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/hey-christian-girl/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Devon Ora]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 08:33:04 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3925</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You’re ten and afraid. You pull your fabric-covered baby book off the shelf. There, written in blue ink in your mother’s handwriting is the date you prayed to receive Jesus into your heart. You were two. But now it occurs to you that you might not have been sufficiently earnest when you were only two. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Declining Rooms</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/declining-rooms/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Martin Cloutier]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 08:32:18 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3941</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Lori ran out of her house and into the rain. She didn’t bother to lock the door or check the mailbox or feed the cats. She’d left her lipstick and earrings on the bathroom sink. Her umbrella was inside the hall closet, lost underneath a jumble of Cody’s Earth shoes. And her favorite leather jacket [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/three-poems-7/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[DeMisty D. Bellinger]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 08:32:05 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3943</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Inside Zelli’s at Night between the Wars “The nigger drummer waved”* &#8211;and I swayed how what I imagined palm trees to sway &#8211;ignored the gay Parisians around me, their white faces lit by candles on tables, by gas lights &#8211;like palm trees: I held my arms up— &#8211;you could see my black fingers moving the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Salad Essay</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/the-salad-essay/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Timothy Parfitt]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 08:31:33 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3929</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Good Friday I got the bad news my freelance contract would not be extended. I took the bus to the lakefront and gazed at the paltry waves. Then I walked back west, bought myself an excessively large pity pizza and carried it across the street to Simon’s. To every stranger who approached the bar I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dad: A Ghost</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/dad-a-ghost/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jesse Lawhead]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 08:29:27 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3931</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Maybe it was seeing his hand pass right through the plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table for a handful of baby carrot sticks on the veggie tray, or the crumpled tissues he left everywhere: in the armchair, on the coffee table, next to his shoes in the entry hall, like the footprints of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Buried Treasure</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/buried-treasure/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Marie Manilla]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Oct 2019 08:27:36 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2019]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3938</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I My mother-in-law didn’t know she was moving. My husband said they were just going out to lunch. It was the only way. Angie had refused to budge for decades, but now she was roaming her Pittsburgh street in a robe with nothing on underneath. A note taped to her front door read: “I live [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>And the Wounded Disappear</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/and-the-wounded-disappear/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Douglas Cole]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:33:39 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3888</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Light now came in through the windows, that pale, deep forest light growing slow and incremental. The cabin smelled of smoke and incense and past lives. The windows were nearly black but for center holes rubbed clean by a need to see. I looked around, but I don’t know why. I had nothing, so I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/three-poems-6/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Emma DePanise]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:31:42 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3908</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Toy Elegy Ending in Ars Poetica, with Lines from W.S. Merwin Just minutes after taking off, the toy plane crumples into the child’s black blanket, parts the starry fuzz, becomes 189 bodies flattened and curled around her shoulders—a leg in Saturn’s rings, a head orbiting Mars—O tireless travelers. So many bodies it takes to keep [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>In a Season of Perdition</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/in-a-season-of-perdition/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jim Gish]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:29:46 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3892</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[He came in that summer of dust devils when my father’s eggshell blue Ford wandered late paths too dark to follow. My mother sat in her sewing room, mumbling in long twisted speeches about a “world gone to perdition.” Donald Puckett came walking up our dusty lane one late Sunday evening, past the wisteria and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>&#8216;The Whole Wild World Around Some Day&#8217;</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/the-whole-wild-world-around-some-day/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Laura Lee Washburn]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:27:16 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3904</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[++++++++++“It is the blight [Daisy] was born for.” First, they make you with dog tags, nine numbers, certificates of birth. Later, you sign a non-compete for your minimum wage box-packing job. You must not. Can not. Dirt. Mulch. The world boils with 24 stars. Dear analog Daisy, for example, I would love you love you, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Child, the Violin, and the Monster</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/the-child-the-violin-and-the-monster/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Vinitia Swonger]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:25:28 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3886</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My girlbody is not terrifying to the monster maker, though villagers will always fear fire. Since I was made a monster, I need not apologize for the destruction. If villagers did not chase, we monsters would not smash as we bolt along. But you know this story is not just about destruction: I meet a [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Chimera</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/chimera/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sally Zakariya]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:23:20 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3897</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Recent advances in genetic analysis have revealed that chimerism is common. – Tim Flannery, New York Review of Books, March 7, 2019 Phantom twin who never was X and Y alike in DNA blood type both A and O chimera – two eggs merged and married in the womb The Greeks imagined you lion / [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Listener</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/the-listener/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[J. A. Bernstein]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:22:24 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3895</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Listener listened solemnly, as was his wont, while his wife explained her reasons for going. I cannot abide this, she said to him finally, tossing her things on a chair. I can’t take you any longer. The Listener stood pensively, scratching his arm, perusing the news on the set. He couldn’t make out the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>spell for homunculi / songs of hydrangeas</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/spell-for-homunculi-songs-of-hydrangeas/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nicholas Alti]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2019 08:21:47 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3899</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[to make an incandescent heart / for your homunculus / first put the loam in the gourd / then the gourd in the ground / then bury yourself / nothing else is necessary / in your extinction ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++a garden blooms could I make love with orchestra / instruments with blossoms / fruiting strings / a [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Mwizi</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/mwizi/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Liz Castor]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:58:31 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3812</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Here people are paid to look through windows at night, are given a sack of rice or a bottle of milk for peeling back the sheets in the middle of someone else’s intimate moment. There are places in the world where you are not entitled to your privacy, to your love.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Apologia of a Lapsed Catholic</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/apologia-of-a-lapsed-catholic/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Chelsea Kerwin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:56:51 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3819</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I stand before you, a godless woman and you think I am naked, but I am not. I once kissed your god of the grey desert with the kisses of my mouth, my blood turned all to wine. My hell is simple, an interruption. And heaven? This slow pressing on your faith until it sags. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Plumbing</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/plumbing/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Emily Blair]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:54:28 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3829</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[once, something sheltered under my left hipbone my lover found it with open hand, blood filling her palm lines once a man brimmed me with trust++++++++and future and yet, no more. end of everybodything. lover of mine demands, when demands, whose bones are these my body holding such hollow once, my friend overcooked a turkey, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Pink</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/pink/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Katherine D. Stutzman]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:52:08 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3834</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It was 1985. Her room was pink, and bigger than mine, and she didn’t have to share it with her sister like I did. She had a closet with mirrored doors, and we would put a chair in front of those big mirrors and take turns brushing each other’s hair. Like a salon. We probably [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Green</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/green/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Elizabeth Duvall]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:50:06 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3836</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You sweet Lemon Boy, you look so good in green. ?“?Lemon Boy and me started to get along together I’d help him plant his seeds and we mowed the lawn in bad weather.?” ?You’ve got a devilish aura that resonates in my mind like a string quartet. Sometimes my soul complains to me when you’re [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Poem Not About the Poet&#8217;s Children</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/poem-not-about-the-poets-children/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[David Kirby]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:48:47 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3821</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[+++++No one likes poems about the poet’s children unless the kids are absolute wretches because +++++poems that praise the poet’s offspring are usually thinly-veiled hymns of praise to the excellence +++++of the person who raised them, and actually I can’t think of any poems that talk about how horrible +++++the poet’s progeny are, though that [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Present, Tense</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/the-present-tense/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cati Porter]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:46:07 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3826</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I am walking in the field and this is All there is; all there ever is, is this: Mornings like a broken yolk in the pan, Midday rye with mayo and tomato, The late afternoon gold flakes of shirred leaves Riffled by the breeze, dogs barking at squirrels, Each other. Sad coyotes at dusk trot [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Abandoned Art</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/abandoned-art/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Leah Beckhoff]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:44:27 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3838</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I once fell in love with a girl who abandoned all of her art, never signed any of her paintings. She’d fold up little pieces of paper into lotus flowers &#38; jumping frogs, and staple them to bulletin boards around town or leave them sitting on tables at the laundromat. At bars she’d pick at [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Quietly in a Room Alone</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/quietly-in-a-room-alone/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Mar 2019 08:42:11 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3840</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A light breeze troubled the curtains and the grey beards of white gulls on the sea wall, the choppy water, the flags on the pier, trees in the gardens of mansions curving along the crest of the hill. The breeze turned a page of the book where the invulnerability of the dead was the subject matter...]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Idea of Birds</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/the-idea-of-birds/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Valerie Lute]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:59:34 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3758</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[We read poetry aloud. He is on the ground in front of me. I rest my elbows on my knees and lean over in my beach chair. After swimming, his black curls have slid down his neck, his hair now heavy and immobile to the wind. The ocean breeze carries a chill, so he puts [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>I Never Talk About the Blood</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/i-never-talk-about-the-blood/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Samantha Tetangco]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:50:56 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3782</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Nor the hunting knife which he bought at Walmart, nor about my sister who, three years later, would see the wooden replicas brought into her self-defense class and suddenly have to leave. She told me she didn’t understand. It’s not like I was there, she said. It’s not like it happened to me. And I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Fertilizer for Pretty Things</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/fertilizer-for-pretty-things/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bailey Cunningham]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:41:14 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3775</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Flowers like having dead things plunged down with their roots. Most people don’t know, but we do. They like little bits of rotting parts, like weasel toes and bird feet and the inner soft pieces of insects that fill their bulbs with the necessary flavors. Then the stalk flits up, sometimes over a matter of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Downpour</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/downpour/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Angela Gabrielle Fabunan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:40:46 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3771</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[created from your image, i think of down pillows and soft bed sheets wet with the mist of rain from the spill over from windows, the illumined light of adolescence before it fulfills itself in adulthood, an ideal, the grace of body at the same time the iron grills of the gates of the mind, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Mausoleum</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/mausoleum/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Donna D. Vitucci]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:39:34 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3764</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A body wants to lie down; it wants to buy a plot. Who will meet you at the entrance to this mausoleum? She there, with her head in her hands, woman of sorrow guarding the steps, bent to a phosphorous moss so slimy and insidious it liquefies stone. Creep close to pay your respects; someone [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Lesson</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/the-lesson/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Isaac Ginsberg Miller]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:26:43 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3773</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[After the saw&#8217;s incision along the board&#8217;s grain, my brother lifts the wood to assess my handiwork, nodding careful approval. Now he has me set the glue, clamp the board to another board. I will cut again, clamp again, build a pattern of dark into light into dark. This useful board will turn out smoother [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>God&#8217;s Blood</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/gods-blood/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Claudia Serea]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:24:24 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3761</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In June, Buni opens the last barrel of her famous black wine just before the holiday of the Saints Peter and Paul, the Summer Saintpeter—Sânpetrul de vara—when the sky opens and we can see God’s face. No one knows how she makes the wine last that long. By this time, the village has gone dry. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Elevation 6,985</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/elevation-6985/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jade Freeman]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:22:55 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3779</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[On the Western slope of Colorado, just outside of Telluride, the San Juan Mountains have been hazy the past two days because of a fire accidentally started by a homeless schizophrenic’s cigarette. From the cocoon of a hammock, you stare up at the blackest sky counting stars through the haze. It’s the kind of expansive [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>i like to wake with intention, but sometimes i wake up with a headache</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2019/i-like-to-wake-with-intention-but-sometimes-i-wake-up-with-a-headache/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Elaine Hill]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2019 08:19:54 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2019]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3786</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Once I awoke +++++to dishes in the sink and took +++++each soggy-crusted rim, dropped them on the floor +++++to see if they would crack. A few passed the test, while thin shards +++++of a distant past gathered like witnesses at my feet. An old-school revival +++++preaching revelation’s dragons, last night’s blue air, +++++the cover of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>An Interview with Edward Mc Whinney</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/an-interview-with-edward-mc-whinney/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jeff McMahon]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Sep 2018 00:16:20 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2018 15th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Interviews]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3657</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Contrary has published 36 stories by Edward Mc Whinney, far more than any other single author in our first 15 years. We've taken this occasion to plumb the allure of Mc Whinney's work, its distinct musicality, its shifting awareness, its sensitive wistfulness, to discover more about the mysterious writer from Cork.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Interviews with Poets Hilary Dobel and Anna Ralls</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/interviews-with-contrary-debut-poets-hilary-dobel-and-anna-ralls/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shaindel Beers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Sep 2018 00:15:56 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2018 15th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Interviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3722</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Accomplished poets who published first in Contrary.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Interviews with Fiction Writers Laura Elizabeth Wollett and Tania Hershman</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/interviews-with-fiction-writers-laura-elizabeth-wollett-and-tania-hershman/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Frances Badgett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Sep 2018 00:13:16 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2018 15th Anniversary]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3733</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Stars of the feminine uprising in fiction.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Lighthouse Journal from Litløy Fyr</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/litloy-fyr/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Laurence O'Dwyer]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:34:06 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3651</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Thursday 28th April. Malmo – Stockholm – Lulea Three times the announcements change their language before I step off the train to sleep in Lars’ apartment. I have been here once before in summer with crowds along the quay. Winter now; red berries. At dusk more crows than trees. Carriage 15. Seat 55. Occasional bursts [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Ad Astra Per Aspera</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/ad-astra-per-aspera/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bette Lynch Husted]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:32:11 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3686</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[When fire swallowed everything, our coats, our house, my sister’s other shoe, they knew the Great Depression had returned, their children would grow up in thin-walled shacks though I remember, in those first hard years, our mother leading us beyond the dim kerosene lamp into the dark our father was afraid would harm us—he’d heard [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Outside From The Inside</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/outside-from-the-inside/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anne Whitehouse]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:30:29 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3684</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[From Isamu Noguchi to Man Ray, Poston War Relocation Center, May 30, 1942 Here, in the internment camp in the Arizona desert our preoccupations have shrunk to a minimum— the intense dry heat, afternoon dust storms, and the difficulty of feeding ourselves on thirty-five cents a day. Outside from the inside it seems history has [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Ash</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/ash/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:29:03 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3517</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Ash is so fine, it, every day, filters through our letterbox and air vents. It is breathed through the nostrils into our lungs, fills our minds with poison. Furthermore we do not always know who it is we have breathed in. The notebook slipped from my hand, tumbled to the floor. I lit a cigarette [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Pleas for Companionship</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/pleas-for-companionship/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Avra Elliott]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:25:23 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3679</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The passion flower had doubled back on itself, the curls of new growth returning, a snake on its own tail, twisting and thriving on the stems of dead older siblings. Stacia did not know if the old growth eventually fell away, or if it became green again, and this ignorance caused some anxiety and grief [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>It Takes All Kinds</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/it-takes-all-kinds/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Josh Lefkowitz]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:11:50 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3681</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Magic Johnson reads poems all day long. Larry Bird selects a single poem and reads it fifteen times a day. Magic Johnson will be in attendance at your book launch, “in the very front row!” Larry Bird has not yet replied to the Facebook invite. Magic Johnson is writing an essay for APR about five [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>November</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/november/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[John Fino]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:10:35 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3694</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Fires smoke the air, the scent a soft comfort from an iron wood stove that calls across the snowy hillside, blazing inside with logs you and Dad needed a whole day to split and stack. You exhale visible breath, hoping for it to turn to icicles and plink to the ground, like in Saturday morning [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Falling Leaves</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/falling-leaves/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shirley Harshenin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jul 2018 08:01:21 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3669</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“I want this one for my obituary,” she turns a wallet-sized portrait toward you. You swallow splinters; don’t want to think about a world without her. Matriarch. Role model. Mother you never had. Propped on one elbow, sun through sheers halos her grey curls. She rakes stiff fingers through photographs scattered on the bed like [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Unbearable Here</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/the-unbearable-here/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kami Westhoff and Kelly Magee]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2018 08:33:07 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3264</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Mother, here's what I need you to know: this is going to hurt. This is going to slip under your nail, black and blue its pink. You'll breathe this in while you sleep, a knot, edgy and fibrous, that leaves hair-thin strips of me in your soup or your peanut butter. The part of the throat only reachable by a gag. You think I never was. ]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Breathe, Hold</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/breathe-hold/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Alessandra Sarchi]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2018 08:31:31 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3268</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It was soon after they’d met. They hadn’t yet married, and Laura came to a Sunday match, sitting on the bleachers all afternoon at the outdoor pool. She’d waited outside the dressing rooms and he’d come out with wet hair, drops running down his neck, endorphins still pulsing from the win.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/three-poems-by-kelly-kiehl/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kelly Kiehl]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2018 08:27:39 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3288</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[This Town Is Dying, But It is not so gone as to rid itself of Provel cheese.      This town’s got a French heritage and not one good place to get a beignet, but this town’s got an Imo’s      on Kirkwood Road, and an Imo’s on Manchester, and: Tell me someone who wouldn’t want to eat [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Similar Shapes</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/similar-shapes/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anuradha Bhowmik]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2018 08:23:01 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3289</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In second grade / I learned that a rectangle does not have a diagonal line of symmetry / it can only be folded into equal parts / vertically and horizontally / when we lived in Atlantic City / my family of four shared a bedroom / our two beds were pressed / perpendicular to one [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Stepdaughter</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/stepdaughter/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Lucy M. Logsdon]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2018 08:01:34 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3273</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[She cocks her head, long brown locks talk down to me. An ice princess— royal posture in the House. I provide: food, shelter, someone to ignore. Wolves deposited her— soft mouth, sharp teeth— on my step. No care for arrival’s tale, what she must is Out. Watch as she steadily sniffs for latch, key, door. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Men Would Like To Tell Me</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/men-would-like-to-tell-me/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Alison Stine]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2018 08:01:01 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3270</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A girl left a party in Wisconsin and died. The news tells me it was cold, it was Wisconsin. The news tells me February lined the streets like old paper. The news tells me she was found with a sweater beside her but not on her. The news doesn’t tell me but men would like [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Pavlov Dawning</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/pavlov-dawning/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Blake Crittenden]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Apr 2018 08:00:52 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3266</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You inhale slowly, counting to 8 as the steady chill flows into your mouth, down your throat and spreads through you, balancing the burning in your oxygen starved lungs. With your eyes closed, you pause a beat and with an exhale you say, “It’s all right Daniel. Everything is alright.” The sound his name makes [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Coming Home</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/coming-home/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Suvi Mahonen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:33:34 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3232</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[05:05 am. My eyes open. A faint pearly blade of light squeezing past the blind. The distant metallic scrape of a moving tram. I lie here in the dawn’s dimness, with my dreams still lingering. “I am a happily married man and I am not looking for any other arrangement. I would ask that you [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Prayers</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/prayers/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:32:50 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3230</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[That morning, news of life ending and life stirring. Beignard, my old buddy, the one they called The Whale for some mysterious reason, had succumbed to the lung cancer, at last, while Victoria, my neighbour, was pregnant, it&#8217;s more frequent than sunrise, she said. What is? Having a baby, she said. My mouth might have [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Why Do Giraffes Climb Trees?</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/why-do-giraffes-climb-trees/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:29:26 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3214</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Because acacia is sweetest at the canopy and grows more beautiful when viewed from above. Because no two giraffes or trees have the same pattern, coat or bark or branch or hoof, and no two clouds look the same from below and no two giraffes can climb the same tree or reach the clouds. Because [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Inventing Fire in Northern Michigan in December</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/inventing-fire-in-northern-michigan-in-december/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[John Sibley Williams]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:27:29 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3208</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; &#160; John Sibley Williams is the editor of two Northwest poetry anthologies and the author of nine collections, including Disinheritance and Controlled Hallucinations. He serves as editor of The Inflectionist Review and works [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Right Shoes</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/the-right-shoes/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Emily Laubham]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:23:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3206</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“Can you fly with a man?” Everyone admired how very large they felt, above the trees and the town. Amira had felt that way before, at what she assumed could be called the height of her life, but right now she looked at her feet. “Excuse me, ma’am. Can you fly with a man?” She [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Subjects for the Smoking Room</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/subjects-for-the-smoking-room/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Megan Wildhood]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:20:12 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3349</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A red-haired woman in a ballgown strolls out of an ER. There is a sky, just enough madness on it. There are flattened, halved pieces of rock for sidewalk. The living spaces here in Glass Pan, Wisconsin, would be affordable if you had a job in a non-affordable city, like Seattle, Hong Kong. That’s where [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Bone Music</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/bone-music/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Trish Hopkinson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:18:07 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3210</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[An electronic image depicts fractures in your parietal bone. Another, the slight twist and a minor chip in your pelvis. Weeks after, a third uncovers a displaced metatarsal. Looking over the radiologist’s shoulder, I imagine these ephemeral remnants as X-ray films from the fifties, rather than ones and zeroes— everlasting digital pixels. If we lived [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>How to Fall Asleep</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2018/how-to-fall-asleep/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[CL Bledsoe]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 07 Jan 2018 08:00:58 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2018]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3351</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Count neighbors who voted to take away your health insurance, their own health insurance. Count bodies in hospital basements claimed by treatable illnesses.   Listen to the steady murmur of family members explaining their hatred for you because you’ve gotten unfair advantages by educating yourself. Rats or squirrels scurrying across the attic boards above your [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Wild Medicine</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/wild-medicine/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jennifer Cayer]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Oct 2017 05:03:15 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2017]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3296</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[July, Minnesota Gigi picks up speed as we wander into the woods. I could listen to the self-named “ditch witch,” medicine woman, and Herbalist Without Borders say lobelia, damiana and comfrey all day. She’s about sixty years-old, violet tunic over leggings. A presumably powerful green stone hangs on a cord over her heart. “Ah, a fringe!” she bubbles. She’s asked [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Lost</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/lost/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Oct 2017 05:02:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2017]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3298</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The bells of the hospital church peal. The lighter bells count each quarter but when it comes to the serious business of the hour, the weightier bell takes over. As the hour bell counts, there is a moment between peals, a ponderous suspension of life, enough to give you rope to deliberate upon the steady, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Alt Gratitude List: What Might Have Been If I Had Never Left Chicago</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/alt-gratitude-list-what-might-have-been-if-i-had-never-left-chicago/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Alice Hatcher]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Oct 2017 05:01:27 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2017]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3300</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I would be a lawyer on my fourth marriage, or maybe my fourth divorce. I would be a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. I would have a three-year sobriety chip. Actually, I would have 296 three-day chips. Every three days, I would throw a new chip into the shoebox under my bed. Or, the chips would [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>April in Middle Age</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/april-in-middle-age/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jeannine Hall Gailey]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2017 05:12:19 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2017]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3302</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I find myself not asking am I still sexy like all the magazines seem to demand but am I happy am I falling apart part of us decaying part of us radiant it seems that there’s a balance on the whole after all as our eyeballs thicken it corrects so many stigmatisms and while I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Rooms</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/rooms/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Abby Minor]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2017 05:01:47 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winners]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3306</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The bathroom must have been cold in winter—our house was heated by a woodstove, downstairs—but I remember it only in summer, the window open, a blue-green damp coming down off the Allegheny foothills. My mother’s silver rings in a little box, her cotton balls and talcum powder, the two knobs for water, hot and cold, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/three-poems-by-carolee-bennett/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Carolee Bennett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2017 05:01:05 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3304</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[blackbirds baked in a pie my mother always sang to me and everyone so heartbreaking what rain does to snow (no chance of going on its own terms) the year she died, we were buried prematurely but those last days unrelenting rain snow wasted away and she – in thirteen ways, she receded into the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>How Gypsy Invented the Tease</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/how-gypsy-invented-the-tease/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Ciara Shuttleworth]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jul 2017 05:01:01 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3318</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Light flies across the ceiling to where hangs a picture of her mother: Praying is like sitting in a rocking chair. It doesn’t get you anywhere but it passes the time. Gypsy Rose lights candles in her dressing room just to blow them out, to watch the sultry weave of smoke in the dark. Headlights [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Centripetal Force</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/centripetal-force/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kristin Berger]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:53 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter and Spring 2017]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3310</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“Morning radar shows eye over water, with biological returns, probably birds, inside.” —Jeff Last, meteorologist, on detecting birds caught within Hurricane Matthew Her body finds mine, pit of night, no hour belonging to her orbiting fever-dreams running away, running towards, into the familiar cove of shoulder, arm, breast, down blanket up and over us both [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/three-poems-by-samuel-hovda/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Samuel Hovda]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:29 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3322</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Planting hookup, at your house 151 rum, malibu, pineapple juice &#160; Samuel Hovda was born and raised in rural Minnesota. He now attends the MA program in Creative Writing at the University of Wisconsin–Eau Claire. You can find him at SamuelHovda.com and on Twitter @SamuelHovda.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Cutter’s Sestina (Prom ’95)</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/a-cutters-sestina-prom-95/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Carolyn Hembree]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:27 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3320</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Fuck spring. Spring’s a punk in rose leather who sings under lacy stars, stars the night bruised around: My knives / are sharper / than your / knives. Na na nana na. / Here, amid my corsage of voices— baby’s breath, filler, wired voice I’ll call Boss Fleur (my rosiest, my loudest)—I knife bloom upon [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Say Uncle</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/say-uncle/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Eugenio Volpe]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:22 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3308</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Last day at Assumption. Bricking the belfry. Two hundred feet in the sky. It’s hard thinking up here. So I don’t. I do my job. One brick at a time. Some small talk with the young tenders. One of them got lucky last night. They chisel him for details, but he stays mum. He says [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three New Stories</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/three-new-stories-by-edward-mc-whinney/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:19 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3326</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Blue. The smell of bread turning to toast came in the open window and my bloodhound began to salivate. He took a turn by the door, fixing his eyes on me. When I bend down to tie my laces a searing pain in a lower disc ensures I straighten up slow, too slow for the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Fair Weather Feminist</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/fair-weather-feminist/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brynn Martin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:17 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3314</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; Brynn Martin is a Kansas native living in Knoxville while she pursues her MFA in poetry from the University of Tennessee. She loves ee cummings and cats almost equally.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Miss Bourgeois in the Pine Barrens</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/miss-bourgeois-in-the-pine-barrens/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Perdita Buchan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter and Spring 2017]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3324</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[She was short, with frizzy hair, nicotine stained fingers, thick glasses and a leg brace from childhood polio. She wore mud colored tweed suits and always stood with one foot on the rung of her chair, holding grimly to the back of it as she talked. She was not the kind of person to control [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three True Stories</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/three-by-jennifer-delisle/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jennifer Delisle]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3316</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In Pleasantview Cemetery My child does not sleep, so I go walking with the bones of the dead. The stroller wheels click along the path, trees frame panes of light across the rows. The plots, green and even, are misnamed, trading stories for simple verse, for peace. Granite markers shine like kitchen counters wiped clean [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Portraiture in Time</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2017/portraiture-in-time/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Elizabeth Earl]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 05:01:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3312</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[1. Platitudes You never got tired of dressing up. Fingers familiar with the tired curvature of your hair, I run the tips of them over your shoulders and down the nape of your neck, once young. A blue bow used to hold the severity of your bun in place, constantly threatening to escape into chaos; [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Far Aberdare</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/far-aberdare/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Paul Yoder]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 09 Oct 2016 16:13:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3010</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[When Donna asked me to come to far-flung Aberdare, I thought about the trees in the nighttime – those burnt-bone-looking monsters that made folks huddle together. In the old days, we’d gather around fires at night, all facing the fire, and, incidentally, each other, and we’d speak. When you see the trees at night, you [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/three-poems-5/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nancy Huang]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 07 Oct 2016 05:57:37 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3001</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Circadian Rhythm Your jaw is a beam of rotting wood/ It is where sadness starts The mouth carries apple-cradled jewels/ &#38; a heat-dipped horizon, First Child clipping crimson out of the sky/ So the birds miss their own singing The boy on the corner is pretzel-throated/ Shows you alcohol under a microscope While First Child carries jade [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dot Tires of Everyone Assuming She&#8217;s Straight</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/dot-tires-of-everyone-assuming-shes-straight/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Erin Elizabeth Smith]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2016 05:01:52 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3339</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Dot is tired of omitting her ex-girlfriends, the ones she cannot write without confusing pronouns or a cocked brow from the man in her workshop who keeps accidentally touching her leg. She is tired of the pink in her cheek being a blush of cold, an accident of blood. She wants to write about the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Magician</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/the-magician/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[J L Higgs]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2016 05:01:40 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3328</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In early 1860’s Virginia, Samuel was a rare thing, a free Negro. Rarer still, he was not a farmer, tradesman, or manual laborer. He was a magician in the tradition of Henry “Box” Brown and his talent came as natural to him as breathing. Samuel hadn’t known his parents, Hezekiah and Hannah. Both  had been slaves [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Storm Clouds Over the State of Louisiana</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/storm-clouds-over-the-state-of-louisiana/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Susannah Breslin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2016 05:01:30 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3336</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[1 They were sitting on the back porch. She had moved into this place the day before. He had a glass of wine in his hand. The weeds were overgrown. He was supposed to have moved in here, but he hadn’t. She was alone. Too bad, she thought. She wasn’t sure she meant it. She was [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Little Pitchers Have Big Ears</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/little-pitchers-have-big-ears/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rachel Toliver]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2016 05:01:20 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3334</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Emily always knew that her second cousin, Paul Williams, could die from Africa. Snakes susurrated along the rafters of his house. Malarial mosquitoes brandished dread proboscises; alligators opened their mechanical mouths. And—the prayer letters reminded them—disease was everywhere. In the Kuluva hospital, Paul’s father, David, plucked bullets from soldiers. He helped the lepers, who had fleshy [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/two-poems-3/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Britney Corrigan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2016 05:01:20 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3332</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Meditation on the Butterfly Effect What if the child has a fever, the mother bending in to wake her as the heat rises up from her skin? What if the child stays home, the sleep-damp curls swept wayside by the mother’s touch? What if the mother calls in to work, cradling the phone at her [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Range Folding (Populus)</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/range-folding-populus/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[John A. Nieves]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2016 05:01:08 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=3330</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“We’re making our weather with a lone light bulb.” — Blake Schwarzenbach May mist on an October morning, a dim light in a closet with no light. Like a storm, we are all vectors: direction, direction, direction. But our equipment can only measure so much. Clearly, I knew what you meant when you brushed bodyward [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Pablo Escobar&#8217;s Hippos</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/pablo-escobars-hippos/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jane Hammons]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2016 05:29:35 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2972</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; The blue-eyed plecostomus will not eat shit, and they will not eat driftwood covered in shit. It is unfortunate that submerged wood sustains them because Pablo Escobar’s hippos unload turd after constant turd, coating the driftwood of the Magdalena River, native habitat of the blue-eyed plecostomus who will not eat their shit. They’d rather [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The City is a Lonely Pandemonium</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/the-city-is-a-lonely-pandemonium/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Chris Cartright]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2016 05:27:12 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2975</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[James thought that he might try to sleep with Madeline today, but he would not, because he didn’t really want to, except that Madeline might finally make him feel like he had touched another person, that they had touched him back; but since he didn’t know her name, Madeline wouldn’t feel the same, nor would [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>disjointed: notes on healing</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/disjointed-notes-on-healing/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sung Yim]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2016 05:26:08 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2950</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[fistula \fis·tu·la\ an abnormal connection between organs.      I’m freshly eighteen years old. The piercer clamps my tongue with forceps and says oh, that thing’s just begging to be pierced. This discomfort is layered and hard to describe. His rubber gloves are smooth as what skin, I think, should be like. He hands me a pamphlet [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Of Ramadas and Monsoons</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/of-ramadas-and-monsoons/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Philip Kobylarz]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2016 05:23:17 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2966</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; People who collect more cars than they&#8217;ll ever need in a lifetime live in prison camps of their own design, addicted to crack or heroin or a combination of alcohol and air conditioning that leaves them listless, pale as whale bone, or blacker than highway tar, and trapped in a bleak moonbase of existence [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Current</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/current/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Renee Igo]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2016 05:22:24 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2978</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; In between the flash and boom of thunder, I count eleven seconds. Though it’s the middle of the night, we’re both awake, lying face-to-face closer than the four-person tent necessitates. Between the next flash and boom, I count nine seconds. Wordlessly we sit up, preparing to move outside. To wake our students, and sliding [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Last Miracle of Kitezh</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/the-last-miracle-of-kitezh/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Elizabeth Sowden]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Mar 2016 06:26:47 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2891</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Look at our sky. You’ve never seen as sky as murky and dark as this one. Strange shafts of light are all we know of the sun. We never see the stars. Have you realized, yet, that this isn’t sky?
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		<title>Someday They Will Both Wield Hammers</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/someday-they-will-both-wield-hammers/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Glenn Lyvers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Mar 2016 06:23:26 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2908</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Somewhere east, a single mother hides her daughter’s bra, conceals the evidence of her blooming behind a Jack pine door. She descends the guilty stairs in too tight heels, slips money into a crack in the wall with a bone-deep, leadened sigh. Her heavy door opens in morning shadows—another knocking man ignoring the protesting snap [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/three-poems-4/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Erica Goss]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Mar 2016 06:20:14 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2906</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Early Morning, San Bernardino, 1969 Even then I knew: my father was waiting for a message and we were supposed to be witnesses. He could not stop his mind’s wild associations, but the sky kept its silence, tar-black and star-smeared. My brother whimpered, pinned against the swing set while Daddy pointed at the heavens, his [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>When We Were Birds</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/when-we-were-birds/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Joe Wilkins]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Mar 2016 06:01:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2016]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2915</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The light shifts here, the angle lengthening through the curtained window in the back. The boy's face, however, remains sharp and clear. Perhaps, too, there should be some rising nighttime sound: the sighs of an old house, the susurrus of a city, a gentle wind worrying the windows.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Absurdity of Curling the Curled</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/the-absurdity-of-curling-the-curled/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Saeide Mirzaei]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Mar 2016 06:00:01 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2926</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Does curly chest hair get any curlier when twisted around a forefinger? He’s stressed out again, and he’s doing it. It’s an automatic unbuttoning of his shirt’s top button, followed by a twisting of a bundle of curly chest hair pressed lightly between two fingertips. It’s a continuous twisting and untwisting. He once explained to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Witch Cake</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/witch-cake/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Tammy Robacker]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2016 12:23:35 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2016]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2878</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Pious mouths foam For measurements. The afflicted, always Some woman. Ill-fated poppet. Aproned, but odd. How different is any one of us When fallen quiet or despised? Or alone. Our hearts all hearth-blackened Pots, sometimes. Loveless. Dark. Stew-crooked Over the hot stove. Roiling Christ bath Of yellow child Piddle mixed to one Heaping cup of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Gilt</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/gilt/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kierstin Bridger]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2016 06:17:56 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2869</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[They had no papers, no means of travel; and a surly guard with a knife was at the door. &#8220;Dreaming of El Dorado&#8221; by Marie Arana This transparency shows where I’ve been kissed by lovers, note the lonely knee cap. Here is the thermal where shame shows up like sunburn&#8211; rarely affecting the shin. But [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Stolen Missed Connections</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/stolen-missed-connections/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2016 06:12:11 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2875</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The snakebites looked really good on you. we talked about how good the jukebox was and that there is a loneliness in this world so great. you mentioned applying to be a fruit expert in roxborough. i didn’t know where that was. i’ve looked it up since and it’s just far enough. you had red [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>When We Speak the Language of Ashes</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2016/when-we-speak-the-language-of-ashes/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Michelle Dominique Burk]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2016 06:00:19 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2016]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2871</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[All the walls smell like you: the smell of green on the Earth’s tongue. Even your eyelashes are inescapable. We are falling toward the detonation of ruptured neurons leaving only pink and squish and I am the beautiful me floating around myself above your head asking you to please grow your beard out once more [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Shake</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/shake/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rebecca Tirrell Talbot]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:59:58 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2817</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Michael Faraday creates tiny earthquakes to watch the shaking. Try it: Spread sand on a metal sheet. Strike the edge with a violin bow and make that metal sing like catgut. See how particles jump and fall. Where they rest when the shaking is done. Look how they wrinkle. Curve. Cross. Explode into stars. Try [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>El Shaman</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/el-shaman/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sara Fasy]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:58:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2820</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[De puerta cerrada, huye el Diablo. The devil flees from a closed door. ~ Mexican proverb My ex-husband is a shaman now. He wears white cotton pants and gathers his supplicants together under the mango trees at his family hot springs in Veracruz, Los Milagros. He tells me about the temascal, or sweat lodge, that he built [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Palpitations and Seizures</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/palpitations-and-seizures/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kenzie Allen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:50:26 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2836</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Never with alcohol. Never more than one. Your heart headbangs its way out of any acceptable range, its beat erratic, an overzealous metronome, a mosh-pit shaker sweaty and bruised—so frantic they can&#8217;t, won&#8217;t take your blood. It&#8217;s the nortriptyline, not a bad organ, but they won&#8217;t hear it. They feed you Teddy Grahams and send [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Cargo</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/the-cargo/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rob Whitbeck]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:49:58 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2843</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Dusk. Now the bloodstar appears. In the dimness, a wooden hut, scarlet vines that engulf it, seclusion surrounded by barren land, a shadowed vastness that draws down to the river. The life that is inside stirs and rises from an iron cot, a chaff mattress. His hand reaches toward the ceiling for a bead chain [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Cupcake</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/cupcake/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[A.N. Block]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:48:11 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2825</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[If I’ve ever been booked, Junior asks. Come again? I fold my hands and force a smile, to show how polite I am, to create an impression. You have a record? I’m like: A record? Of what? Arrests, convictions. Don’t lie, he says, I can look it up easy. Look, I tell him, all’s I’m [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>See If You Don&#8217;t Come Back</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/see-if-you-dont-come-back/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edmund Sandoval]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:47:55 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2823</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[But not tonight, tired today. The air dusty spider web tufting from attic lumber. Smell of crushed cicada shell, grass, other. I’ve got a face for nothing. There isn’t any cost in that. Not in the short run. There’s the moon, hiking up like a mom on a hill, slow and steady and overwarm and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/three-poems-ralls/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anna Ralls]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:44:39 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2838</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; &#160; Anna Ralls lives in Columbia, Missouri. This is her first publication.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>San Sepulcro</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/san-sepulcro/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[David Kirby]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2015 05:42:45 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2845</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; David Kirby&#8216;s collection The House on Boulevard St.: New and Selected Poems was a finalist for the National Book Award in 2007. Kirby is the author of Little Richard: The Birth of Rock ‘n’ Roll. His forthcoming LSU collection is Get Up, Please. Visit davidkirby.com.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Calvin Looks Around</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/calvin-looks-around/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Avery Gregurich]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jul 2015 05:59:13 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2774</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[As the slug1 buried2 beneath a recurring3 hosta4, I5 have6 lived7 a sheltered8 life.9 1 Ms. Howler is the broomstick of a teacher who made me write that sentence up there. The assignment was to write a single sentence describing our quaint, (that’s a new one), little town of Hillsboro and then an explanation about [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Good Stewards of the Earth</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/good-stewards-of-the-earth/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kate Garklavs]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jul 2015 05:58:06 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2780</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[To say that we are siblings is not enough. I’m not speaking just in terms of biology, but of the physicality. When we lay our arms side by side on the table, there exists still a shadow of doubt that they belong to the same person: Jake&#8217;s is broader and more densely haired. We are not [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Kovacs</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/kovacs/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jul 2015 05:57:27 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2783</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Oslo Bar is down by the river, down the docks, you can hear the cranes, the winching, you can smell the dust and pick up a few kilos of bananas or a bag of coal from urchins. March is a rough month in these latitudes, when a damp blanket of fog descends for days [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Tears</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/tears/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Ellis J. Biderson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jul 2015 05:56:53 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2786</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[What I do not understand is where the tears go. A baby’s 2:00 A.M. cries for mother’s milk. Perhaps an ounce. A child’s skinning a knee. A couple of tablespoons’ worth, possibly. Lost and rejected love. Forgotten friendship. Faded ardor. Could be a handkerchief or two, full each night for weeks or more, then only [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Horses of Sanlùcar</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/the-horses-of-sanlucar/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Richard Farrell]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 04:55:49 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2704</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Edith told her husband she was leaving him and moving back to America. He was standing in the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, shaving cream lathering his cheeks. His back muscles twitched when she said it, but otherwise he didn’t react. There’d been no argument, no clear reason for her declaration. “I need [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Geographies</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/geographies/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sayantani Dasgupta]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 04:54:35 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2716</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[He dumped her via a terse, two-line email. Which was surprising because for the two years they had been together he had fulfilled her requests for old-fashioned letters by writing them on unlined, creamy sheets until his hand cramped into a claw. He would email her throughout the day, obsessive bursts of news that shot [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Six Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/six-poems/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Danielle Beazer Dubrasky]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 04:53:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2692</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Your Treasures Are Marbles Your treasures are marbles, matchbox cars, old maps, fly fishing lures you find in the reeds. Hers are shells, antler shards, acorns, the tip of a raccoon’s tail found in mulched leaves. You give her what you value most— a mayfly nymph broken off someone else’s line. She puts it with [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Four Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/four-poems-mcnally/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Janet McNally]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 04:52:54 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2697</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Fins Sometimes I dream you’re one of those Florida mermaids in highway towns, slipping your legs into a green iridescent tail. You kick past coral reefs built from scaffolding, pearly conch shells hiding the metal. You swim behind plate glass and sneak hits of underwater air. This is the breath you’ve been missing, Maggie, this [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Four Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/four-poems-goldman/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Janlori Goldman]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 04:52:48 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2702</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Ode to Stretchmarks &#160; Elegy for your Breasts &#160; Amber Cloud &#160; Spring Cleaning Janlori Goldman&#8216;s poem &#8220;At the Cubbyhole Bar&#8221; was chosen by Gerald Stern for the Raynes Prize. Janlori co-edits &#8220;The Wide Shore: A Journal of Global Women&#8217;s Poetry,&#8221; www.thewideshore.org. She teaches at Columbia University and is a writing mentor to cancer survivors [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Motionless</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/motionless/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Lana Bella]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 04:50:52 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2706</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Trees and moon stir into phantom shapes outside, playing naked on the empty street. Inside, a heavy mood hangs over the kitchen air. Where a platter of lemon-grass fish soup, fried pineapple rice and green bean in brown sauce, sits motionless and cold. On an oak table. It wobbles and moans. Every time she turns [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Seventeenty</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/seventeenty/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 13 Mar 2015 04:50:45 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2720</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m almost seventy. When I was seventeen, the other day, I had no idea who I was and the future was so obscure. The people between funerals were a furnace of crazy burning faces rising like sparks, laughing and drunk, and flying through the chaos. Most of them burned like comets or fireworks though there [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The museum is closing, the custodian said.</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/the-museum-is-closing-the-custodian-said/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Claudia Serea]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jan 2015 05:04:09 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2666</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A girl walks through the torn city saying her silent goodbyes. She touches the walls with her fingertips. Farewell, fences. Goodbye, sweets shop selling cakes dripping with syrup and caramel squares hard as bricks. So long, schoolyard where she tore her knees roller skating. See you later, Cornus tree covered in golden flowers and bees. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Space Children and Fragility</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/space-children-and-fragility/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nicole Kurlich]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jan 2015 05:03:47 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2663</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Nicole Kurlich is a young writer living in woodsy Northeast Ohio with her family. She is currently focused on finishing her Associate of Arts degree from Lakeland Community College. When not writing, she enjoys watching horror flicks, befriending felines and playing the ukulele.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Don&#8217;t Forget To Say Hello</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/dont-forget-to-say-hello/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Melanie Pappadis Faranello]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jan 2015 05:02:15 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2653</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It wasn’t a far drive to Grandma’s, but the kid looked for castles and in his mind this took nearly as long as going to the moon. My wife wasn’t along for the ride. She was practicing boundaries, as she’d put it, learning to set limits. I wasn’t sure what this meant aside from the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Janis</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2015/janis/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kathi Hansen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Jan 2015 05:01:14 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2015]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2651</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It was black-dark and pounding rain and no one was around to see her slip, barefoot, in the mud outside the car where she’d just finished the last cigarette in the pack, and not only had she muddied the knees and tattered-to-frays bell bottoms of her low-slung jeans, her hair had flattened against her head [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Ending</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/the-ending/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[A. Molotkov]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Dec 2014 16:55:30 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2014]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2638</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[with gratitude to Paulann Petersen for her workshop springboards Born in Russia in 1968, A. Molotkov moved to the US in 1990 and began writing in English in 1993. Molotkov co-edits The Inflectionist Review. Visit him at AMolotkov.com.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/two-poems-2/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cati Porter]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Dec 2014 16:53:11 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2014]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2635</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Falling In, Falling Out The soup pot stirs, my hair dips into the broth, Tendrils warm against my neck like a whisper. I lean again to listen: the potatoes tell me what their eyes have seen. My own, threaded by a needle of light, squint against, resist. Poor leeks, you have been abandoned; jilted cousin [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Box of Nazi</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/box-of-nazi/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Christopher Allen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Dec 2014 16:51:42 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2622</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[July 13 Ten minutes till Glee. I’ve ripped the plastic off a new box of tissues. Fluffed the first one up. Popped popcorn. Finn’s just died in real life, but he’ll always be a football-playing tenor in syndication. The glee club are going to nationals again today. Afternoon reruns. I’ve seen this one six times. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Father Dunne&#8217;s School for Wayward Boys #6</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/father-dunnes-school-for-wayward-boys-6/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kyle Hemmings]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Dec 2014 16:51:26 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2014]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2624</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[One late blue September afternoon, Charley and I broke into Father L&#8217;s desk to steal the answer sheets to tomorrow&#8217;s pre-algebra test. Instead, we found his red-inked list of boys who would never be saved, never make it to heaven. There were five of them. Peter&#8217;s name was at the top. When we arrived back [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Chernobyl Exclusion Zone</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/the-chernobyl-exclusion-zone/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephen Cloud]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Dec 2014 16:50:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2627</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[After kicking around the West for a while (with stops in Spokane, Flagstaff, and Sedona), Stephen Cloud has settled in Albuquerque, where he&#8217;s fixing up an old adobe, working on poems, and pondering the official New Mexico state question: &#8220;Red or green?&#8221;]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>First Samuel &#124; A Namesake</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/first-samuel-a-namesake/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hannah Baggott]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Dec 2014 16:49:41 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2629</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; Hannah Baggott is a Nashville native pursuing an MFA in poetry at Oregon State University while teaching writing courses. She helps to run Poetics Corvallis, a poetry and spoken word group at her favorite local coffee shop, Interzone. hannahbaggott.com]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/three-poems-by-mary-mcmyne/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Mary McMyne]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2014 06:00:47 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2589</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[ The Dun-Shi (He Went Dancing) &#160; The Body Above &#160; Where to Look for the Sleagh Maith (Margaret&#8217;s Song) &#160; Mary McMyne is an assistant professor at Lake Superior State University and co-editor of Border Crossing. She is the author of a chapbook, Wolf Skin (Dancing Girl Press, 2014) and the past recipient of the Faulkner [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Ghost</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/ghost/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2014 05:59:57 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2570</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Once I was a man of few words even if behind it my mind was feverish. Not many moments of calm, though I learned to keep quiet. I lived in a room overlooking the pier and a field of dandelions. The dandelion spoke the advantages of taking root as well as flying and how to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Aerograms</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/aerograms/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jim Krosschell]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2014 05:58:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2554</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“A letter from America was waiting for me at school this morning, from Mom, saying that Gram Krosschell had died.” This was an entry in my journal on March 22, 1976, in Chungmu-si, South Korea. I don’t remember receiving that letter. It was a long time ago. But I can reconstruct how that moment would [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/two-poems-by-emily-van-duyne/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Emily Van Duyne]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2014 05:57:09 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2014]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2585</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[ All Night, I Dream of Prisons Bless the cloud that blessed the sun and hid it from my anger, my red face. In the sometimes broad and often pressed so tight that nothing can squeeze through container of my mind, love exists. So, too, there are flashes of a red so pure it is my [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Talking to Plants</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/talking-to-plants/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brittney Scott]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2014 05:56:06 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2581</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[An old man with his feet before the fire In robes of green, in garments of adieu. ~ Roethke Goodnight, and by dawn leaves open and unroll toward my breathing. So many, they collect all the light. Ferns, peace lily, ivy for my talon hands to tend and water and prune. It smells like dew [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Hidden Tracks</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/hidden-tracks/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cynthia Newberry Martin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2014 05:55:29 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2565</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Once upon a time is what Noalee wishes she could say about this time of her life. She sighs and glances at the burgundy underbelly of the hotel awning. She was hoping travelling to a different place would help, but this trip to Atlanta, her annual visit to company headquarters, may be making things worse. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Blue Moon</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/blue-moon/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jodi Paloni]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2014 05:54:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2560</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I pace the hospital room while medical staff monitors the inner workings of my son’s beautiful body. They patch his exterior—prop, unroll, swab, and cover. I stand at the foot of the bed, holding his feet as if doing so will keep him here, not in this gurney, but on this planet. Owen. I think [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Nervous Writer</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/the-nervous-writer/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[S.W. Flores]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Apr 2014 05:49:56 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2500</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The writers all sat round the table, sipping slowly from their beers, like wolves to baited blood. The nervous writer was due any minute and with luck he would suffer a complete breakdown. But before he arrived, the talk went round the table, a cat’s cradle of conspiracy and gaze. The topic du jour was [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Calligraphies</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/calligraphies/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anne Whitehouse]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Apr 2014 05:29:22 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2530</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Cai Guo-Qiang speaks In the old days in China my father collected calligraphy, ancient scrolls, and rare books. We lived in Quanzhou, across the strait from Taiwan. We could hear artillery batteries firing into the mist at the island that still resisted the mainland. My father’s calligraphy was delicate and adept. I used to stand [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Confessions of an Aging Lesbian Poet</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/confessions-of-an-aging-lesbian-poet/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jesse Mikhail Wesso]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Apr 2014 05:28:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2528</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I was a spinner for the winking eye of any needle. A whore for fluorescence, that retro-electromagnetic easy smile between the legs. It’s good for a while. You’re more a skeptic. Red for love, pink for thank you; which color blooms dyke? We think of poetry as a hunchbacked gardener watering antiquities. I wanted to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Labor Day</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/labor-day/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Katie Cortese]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Apr 2014 05:27:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2508</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The albino crocodile has no concept of her own captivity. Pressed against her habitat by the crowd, I watch the great lizard balance on crooked arms plump as the sausage-limbs of babies who have not yet learned to crawl. In slow motion, her long jaw parts to reveal point-by-point a matched set of miniature mountain [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Before Dubai, This Ellay</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/before-dubai-this-ellay/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Beth Thomas]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Apr 2014 05:20:19 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2515</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[She changed her name from Juanita to Ellay the week after she moved to Dubai. Then she changed her hair from blonde to red-brown to black but refused to change her western style, showing her legs more often than she should. The last time I saw her, she was crying over rivers and bridges and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Continuous Cities</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/continuous-cities/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hannah Dow]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:48:27 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2458</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[After Italo Calvino As he enters the city of Araceli, the traveler feels that he is being watched, and he is.  To get to the city, he must first pass through a long tunnel of mirrors. There are few places to stop along his journey into the city, but when he does stop, it is [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Alien War, Human War</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/alien-war-human-war/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Okla Elliott]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:47:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2452</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; written on the tenth anniversary of the Iraq invasion &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160; 1. Death is an underwater bird, not a bird at all; an eel with wings. It is a metal bird loaded up with techno-artillery. War, this war, war between the eagle and other birds-of-prey (different prey). Death is depleted uranium, radiating strangeness into the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dangling Now, in the Erotic City of Ghosts</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/dangling-now-in-the-erotic-city-of-ghosts/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Heather Fowler]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:44:46 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2464</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[“The first to arrive could not understand what drew these people to Zobeide, this ugly city, this trap.”  ~ Italo Calvino &#160; In the lingering Erotic City of Ghosts no one does laundry. They do not do laundry because ghosts do not sweat. Night turns into day—and day to night. The citizens can appear at [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Cemetery Boy</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/cemetery-boy/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Avery Gregurich]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:35:25 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2460</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The porch light is on, but what it doesn’t reach looks like the inside of a coffee pot. No lightning bugs or stars for hope of relief. I read a poem to him under the light and he laughs at my serious face, my stumbling voice. “I liked that line about porn,” he says between [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Colorado Street</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/colorado-street/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Weston Cutter]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:27:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2456</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The truck shifts iffy but the engine thrums regardless, I&#8217;m rumbling &#160; through late winter early nights not knowing what gear I should &#160; grind deeper into. What I know for sure—on concrete roads named &#160; after states I&#8217;ve never made wishes within—is I&#8217;m too old for certain &#160; reverse, have lived my share of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>jouer au flipper</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/jouer-au-flipper/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Samuel Hovda]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:25:36 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2462</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[1. The woman waits on the shore. She hears the waves’ song and finds it rough like sand on a lover’s skin. She cannot displace the noise with her own words. Such news admits no modulation. &#160; If she could learn the ocean’s song, Would it matter? And what then of the men Who make [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Kes Woodi</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/kes-woodi/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Erika T. Wurth]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:19:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2471</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The red grasses. That’s what I remember. Threading my little brown hands through them on the hills in Oklahoma, my mother calling in Cherokee from the warm little cabin in the distance. The smell of smoking meats. It was so beautiful. But the memory is even more beautiful. Even then, I knew I was born [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Church of Poetry</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2014/the-church-of-poetry/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Dane Cervine]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Jan 2014 05:01:59 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2014]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2469</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[There is something wrong in the World of Poetry (of course, something’s always wrong, which is part of the fun).We quibble over doctrinal disputes like the institution we love to hate: the Church. How many recovering Catholics, or any denomination, have found refuge now in the Church of Poetry, this “better scripture”? Yet if we [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Top Ten in Poetry</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/top-ten-in-poetry/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shaindel Beers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Oct 2013 05:06:01 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2013 Tenth Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2352</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Factory, Rebecca Lehmann • Rebecca Lehmann’s “The Factory, An Elegy in 6 Parts” is the story of class struggle as myth, as fairy tale; I’d never read anything like it before and knew we had to publish it. Rename the Birds, Weston Cutter Weston Cutter’s wordplay in “Rename the Birds” reads like Dylan Thomas [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Top Ten in Fiction</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/top-ten-in-fiction/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Frances Badgett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Oct 2013 05:05:13 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2013 Tenth Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2367</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Kiki Petrosino, Allegory • When you get Dante and God into the same room, you get Kiki. We’ve published a few installments in her Allegory series, and each shines like a jewel, wild and beautiful. Steve Mitchell, Above the Rooftop I remember the day I read this story. I remember the weather, I remember what [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Top Ten in Commentary</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/top-ten-in-commentary/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jeff McMahon]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Oct 2013 05:03:09 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2013 Tenth Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2350</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Love Like All The Stars In The Sky, Rafael Torch • Rafael Torch wrote nine commentaries for Contrary as he was dying of cancer. This may be the only one he needed to write. It may be the only thing any of us ever needed to write.  Plum Island, Andrew Coburn The first literary work [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Contrary&#8217;s Fifth Anniversary Recalled</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/contrarys-fifth-anniversary-recalled/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Contrary Magazine]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Oct 2013 05:01:36 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2013 Tenth Anniversary]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2373</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Five years ago the nation was entangled in a grim war based on lies, the publishing industry was in collapse, the whole economy rushing to join it, people pulling their money out of banks—but together we were clinging to ledges and sharing delight in online media that still bore the tang of novelty. In that [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Moon Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/three-moon-poems/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[John A. Nieves]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2013 05:59:52 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2268</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Blue Moon If you called the name of a ghost on the fourth full moon of a season, it would carry it back through the hole in the horizon where the keeper of names buffs the scroll, the roll call, free of the old and it would spare that name the kiss of its scales [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Flood</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/the-flood/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Armel Dagorn]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2013 05:57:40 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2280</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[God, I thought after three days when the rain wouldn&#8217;t abate. At first I stayed home, for there was no point carrying on hoeing around in that weather. The earth turned into a big mush, and then, when it was too full to suck in any more, pools like tiny lakes formed in the fields. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>At the Station House</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/at-the-station-house/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Erika Dreifus]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2013 05:52:44 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2261</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Technically, you aren’t obligated to go to the station house. You have been invited to go, to review video footage. Perhaps this will help identify the “emotionally disturbed person”—the “EDP,” in police parlance—who attacked you with a blade in broad daylight two days earlier. The detective assigned to your case, Detective A., even offers to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Song, Mary</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/song-mary/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Maureen Alsop &#38; Joshua Gottlieb-Miller]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2013 05:50:51 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2275</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I don’t even believe in desire sometimes. Like the artist from Israel I didn’t want to sleep with— she painted Vermont’s green mountains. There weren’t any bombs in her paintings, so her paintings must have taken place in those fifteen seconds between belief and desire, the air raid sirens             [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Disinter</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/disinter/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stevie Edwards]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2013 05:45:53 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2271</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Here, in this Ithaca that I am writing, even daylight is acicular. There are words for what I am doing to this landscape—calumniation, a slurring of—O iced apogees and troughs, I have ruined. Death to breath, a semibreve of fantastic, held hostage. I have journeyed away from this idyllic home—swallowed hard—a mess of neologisms for [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Surf and the Night</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/the-surf-and-the-night/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Zdravka Evtimova]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2013 05:40:17 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2298</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I was afraid. Sometimes the sea was quiet and the sun was in the sky all the time, or so I thought. I was tempted to run to the shore and get a swim, but I suspected a storm would break the minute I&#8217;d touch the water. That was my imagination of course. I could [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>I Get a Kick Out of You</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/i-get-a-kick-out-of-you/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Huey Helene Alcaro]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jul 2013 05:30:43 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2291</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My clitoris sings songs of love. Or lust. Most love songs are really lust songs. This is our story. Of course you know some of it but I like to tell stories so here’s our story to date—as I’ve lived it. We were at that fundraiser for a politician who is not as objectionable as [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Skin</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/skin/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Vincent Joseph Noto]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:25:41 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2144</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[— footnote on Wiener Oktoberrevolution, October 6th 1848 composed Oktoberfest, October 6, 2012 &#160; What glass eyes gazed out your moribund skin that manic taxidermist Thaller stretched over wooden frame? How they must have looked down on collective white guilt. You beat the Turk yet no intellect, no stratagem of chess or faro or war, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Even The Orange Moon Is Not More</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/even-the-orange-moon-is-not-more/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Mark Goad]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:20:08 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2142</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Skinned and re-skinned (over a life’s times’ crooked course), the body you touch grows daily more strange, clad in a semblance of a remembered self, memory of a memory mirrored back into forgetfulness. But a reflection is as real as anything else, even the orange moon shining against the pond’s sleepy surface is not more. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Locked</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/locked/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nick Ripatrazone]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:15:15 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2158</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Mr. Nolan gutted trout on the workbench. Sawdust freckled their skin. He placed the fillets on butter-drubbed foil, sprinkled pepper, onion powder, and salt, and then spread the wrapped fillets across the grill. Colin and I liked to watch his father prepare the trout but hated watching him cook. He told the same story about [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dog</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/dog/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Steven Gillis]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:10:36 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2155</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I am Hercules.  That’s right.  That’s right.  Say my name. I think this when I watch him, imagine what it must be like.  The way he moves suggests a knowledge of the universe I don’t have, all twelve ribs working in tandem with the scapula and sternum, the cervical and thoracic vertebra.  His muscles are [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/two-poems/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Megan Alpert]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:05:24 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2152</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Roommate If she drinks a mouth of fire, I dream a mouth of fire. When germs gather, I find myself accidentally caressing her toothbrush. In her room, she pulls dead leaves off the sapling. True, I was scared. I thought I might be hated, or smothered in my sleep. But when I woke up Saturday [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Dead Parental Units</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/dead-parental-units/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bill Yarrow]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:04:34 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2232</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[1. Each death a sonnet, every grief fourteen lines. Not yours. I refuse you this one thing. I sat next to you in the hospital, your mouth open on one side, your last breath escaped. I connect you with no other dead or myself with the other weeping sons. I am only this son, holding [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Beautiful</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/beautiful/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Francine Marie Tolf]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:02:04 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2178</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A few weeks ago around midnight, I woke up and turned on the lamp.  My cat, Lilly, was sitting at the foot of the bed studying the ceiling with interest.  Not the hunter’s interest that makes her bottom twitch with excitement, but a kind of friendly curiosity.  I lifted a sleepy gaze and saw, directly [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>What The Water Did, Elegy For Danny</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/what-the-water-did-elegy-for-danny/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jennifer Givhan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:01:51 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2164</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[To me you’ll always be the boy with the backpack, the boy whose daddy left him left us left meth in the tin house, the shed in the backyard and the two black dogs. Remember the dogs? Remember the pipe, the drawer, the cubby hole in the wall near the beach, and the cigarette smoke [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Collapse</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/a-collapse/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:01:33 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2236</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It was very cold. I dreamed of orange groves in Andalusia and small villages during siesta in Almeria. I turned the key in the lock and sat in the chair. There was a dripping noise, a dripping of water from a tank. I counted then waited, then glanced at the ceiling. I stepped into the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Cleaving</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/cleaving/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jennifer Givhan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 05:01:14 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2161</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My mom tells my dad she wishes she’d never married him, never had his children, who inherited his depression. She’s tired of being around sadness. Melancholia. A beautiful flower in another family tree. She’d wish me away for a happier heart. As if the chemicals misfiring in my brain could ever replace the tubules pumping—maddening, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Pregnancy</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/pregnancy/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nahid Rachlin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 06:59:13 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1924</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Mahnaz woke to the buzzing of the alarm clock. She leaned over, turned it off, and lay back. I must get up now, she thought, I will have to see Dr. Gibbons this morning. But she kept lying there, tired. No, more, reluctant to face the day. She wondered if it all had to do [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>of angels, satin and the rest you would have hated</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/of-angels-satin-and-the-rest-you-would-have-hated/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Liz Bowen]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 06:55:55 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1932</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[a body that when laid out makes me remember the sun like a sheet hung behind a high hill not quite a mountain; back at your house one of your hairs has been crushed into an oriental rug and it waits there for your mother to find it shining in its own weak way; somewhere [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Endoskeleton in Amber</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/endoskeleton-in-amber/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Stephanie Kartalopoulos]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 06:50:58 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1943</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Threat looms like the bite of a varying hare. What is there to know about the way I have remixed hope into something that resembles my own inconsolable and yellow-toothed winter? There is little beyond that emptying estuary, an audience unkempt and readied in its seasonal blaze, a downward kneel of spiders dizzy with gold. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Cattle Call Leaves, A Ghost Story</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/cattle-call-leaves-a-ghost-story/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jennifer Givhan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 06:45:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1951</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I felt sepultured in the snow globe Gabe gave me for Christmas, on the bridge beside its festively scarfed, hatted, and gloved characters, dropping sticks into the creek from one side, then clambering to the other side to see whose stick emerged first from the tunnel. I checked the rushing water but found, instead of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Other Man</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/the-other-man/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Ramesh Avadhani]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 06:40:25 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1958</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Tiny fires erupt behind my eyes and cut me off from the other man and the first thought that strikes me now is: perhaps my eyes were really his eyes, the one who was swathed in robes of a muddy colour, the one who squatted on pebbles and waved his beautiful hands every now and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Trouble With Paradise</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2013/the-trouble-with-paradise/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Theodosia Henney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 06:35:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2013]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1968</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I did not tell you that I come from paradise. There, the rain leaps &#38; swirls from the slanted roof of the old white barn, comes on with the sound of pebbles, tumbled; standing on the porch you can hear the storm approach across the field. In paradise, you can look over the valley at [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/three-poems-3/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Amanda Leigh Rogers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:59:03 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1975</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Woman to Pink Rose I know that you bloomed by the petals on my doorstep. I was thinking that my paycheck wouldn’t fix the car. I thought it day after day, and missed everything. &#160; Pink Rose to Bee For you I unfold myself in layers. For you, for you I open. For you I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Under The Chestnuts</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/under-the-chestnuts/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Wendy Marcus]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:55:54 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[Soaring into the cobalt sky, Yamo’s basketball eclipses a huge harvest moon before crashing down through a chestnut tree. Spiky burrs, loosened by the circular assault, drop past Fay’s head. “Yamo,” she shrills. Such wicked, carefree laughter sprays from the boy. She’d willingly be pricked &#8211; pelted even &#8211; all night. Mother and son aim [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Twilight Histories, A Monologue</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/twilight-histories-a-monologue/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Douglas Penick]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:50:06 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1993</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[ Part 1 Winter ice and slippers. Instability on the black driveway. Well, there&#8217;s a reason they call them slippers. Slippery bed slippers. She should be slipping into bed. Or, determined as she was, she should have put on the boots. Even with having to sit down and bend and the shortness of breath and the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Group of Anorectics Take a Field Trip to the Supermarket</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/a-group-of-anorectics-take-a-field-trip-to-the-supermarket/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jaclyn Dwyer]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:45:22 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2001</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Each girl slings a basket on her elbow. Hollow crates dangle like unlit chandeliers. They get the heavy stuff first, full gallons of skim milk, and pace the aisles, trying to burn as much as they collect. They select the oldest ones, the overpicked, those that will spoil first. Each arm is the untested girder [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Parataxis</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/parataxis-2/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Meg Matich]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:35:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2012</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; Meg Matich is a student in Columbia University&#8217;s MFA&#8211; Poetry and Literary Translation program, where she focuses on German translation and delves into Slovak translation. Her first chapbook, &#8220;The Litter of the Rose Leaves&#8221; is forthcoming from Dancing Girl Press, 2013.  ]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Devoted</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/devoted/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Donna D. Vitucci]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:30:25 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2026</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You have the urge to pee during the Forty Hours Devotion. Think of something else, your mother would say, were she there, but the non-believer never comes to church. Church is your father&#8217;s department. He can&#8217;t cross with you into the girls&#8217; room, so don&#8217;t bother tugging at his coat. Instead, bite your lip. The inside [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Limbo</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/limbo/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2013 04:25:44 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=2031</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Now that I am older, I play my part as though it mattered a little more. It doesn&#8217;t work of course. It never worked, though I have dreamed myself into all kinds of places, for example out west in a harmless looking farmhouse, grey lichen, black ivy, overgrown garden, and still up that path they [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/three-poems-2/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anne Barngrover]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Jul 2012 08:36:09 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1839</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Real Man Blues The field of big-barrel barbeques tried to be a churchyard the way he once tried to lace me down with lies. In the end, only one got what they were after. And only one of us sang, I got mean things  on my mind. If even grits can suffer then maybe the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Lovers, Carbon Monoxide Poisoning</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/lovers-carbon-monoxide-poisoning/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Laura Elizabeth Woollett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Jul 2012 06:36:43 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1871</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[‘Will the world end if we come together?’ ‘Baby, what kind of question is that?’ * She is up from California for Christmas and orange-faced above her parka. Fake Californian girl, laughing in the parking lot, toting a bag full of booze for tonight. Leggier than you remember. You cross to the liquor store. * [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>On A Barge</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/on-a-barge/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Jul 2012 06:32:01 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1876</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[That Autumn I rented a barge in a secluded pool upstream from the mouth of the harbour, lost in there among the woods. I had an open stove in which I burned timber collected along the neglected ways. The smoke escaped through a small thin, tin chimney and trailed away into the evening. I spent [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Your Nature</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/your-nature/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jason M Vaughn]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Jul 2012 06:26:14 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1857</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[You say it’s funny how your breasts are gone but you remain.  It was the same for your grandmother (who still lives), but your mother would not give them up and so gave up everything else. You couldn’t wait to get home; but now, as we lie here in the calm of this gradual waking-up, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Good Night</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/good-night/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Laura Mahr]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Jul 2012 06:24:28 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1853</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Occulophobia: The fear of nightfall. Edison. Prometheus. Lucifer. Saviors. Lightbulbs. Reedy fire. Those who convert, invert With steady hands. Sleep: the fear of being Awake. Finger, Switch. The death Of artificial day. But when You lie cool-sheeted With the new buzzing darkness Pressing your unadjusted eyes (Infantly autistic, maybe crying), You see a square. You [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>In And Through The Cold</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/in-and-through-the-cold/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Dorotea]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Jul 2012 06:12:27 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1844</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Pretend to be natives. The idea was absurd, a stroke of genius. Perfect timing, too. It was 1925, the year after the US granted citizenship to American Indians. We were sure the Alaska Natives would soon get the same recognition. The veteran Alaskeros laughed. Inside the damp and crowded locker room, they sounded like hysterical [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The History of Us</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/the-history-of-us/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Becca Rose Hall]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Jul 2012 06:09:44 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1884</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The house was red tiles, flaked stucco, a palm tree to the side dropping fronds like huge dried fish. They flew a pirate flag there, and mowed their lawn into a peace sign until the University mandated uniformity. Stanford had standards. The dark wooden doors pulled open heavily, and she was small. Perhaps she should [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Encyclopedia Floridiana</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/encyclopedia-floridiana/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Lia Skalkos]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:22:01 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1681</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Green Basilisk / Basiliscus plumifrons / Jesus lizard My roommate Frank finds the basilisk on one of his worksites and brings it home. He puts it in the snake tank, which he leaves on the patio, and tucks some plants in it to make it homey. Sheena puts a towel over one side of the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>There</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/there/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kathryn Martins]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:20:07 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1629</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[There is a jasmine vine on the corner of 9th Ave. and 5th St. It weaves across a fence around a 1938 house that holds the vault of a former bank robber. You will find its combination scratched into the garage wall. The bathroom vault was locked, but empty. This is not that story. The [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>In the Event of Nuclear War</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/in-the-event-of-nuclear-war/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jaime Garcia]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:16:24 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1615</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[How many have handed over their religions? Come empty fences come power-lines, TVs all promising the fall-out won&#8217;t make landfall. I&#8217;ve been in rooms full of people while they haunt themselves with the forest-fire sunsets of Arizona. And we share the same disease, sincerely, they&#8217;ve never slept very well. By which I mean their elegance [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Hard Because</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/the-hard-because/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kevin McLellan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:14:53 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1620</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The crook of my neck: the hairline once made a perfect cursive M: you wept over the dishwater in the same sink you had once washed my infant body (the soft machinery): you the mother within my mother who will not know what I won’t want you to know is why I am:   &#160; [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Restraining Order</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/restraining-order/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Matthew Dexter]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:12:07 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1624</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I am sitting in the attic closet with the cobwebs and mothballs, holding my baby, her hiccups ceaseless as the paint can smashes through the window below and the diaper rash is getting worse and cradling the freshly coated doorframe, they climb the pull-down ladder. They are dressed as clowns but they are my ex-wife’s [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>To Ipswich</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/to-ipswich/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:10:57 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1639</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[They sent me to London for a summit on Global Water Leakage. I lasted no time at all because feeling like a lame duck I soon began to sweat. We were in a convention centre, some stuffy four star hotel near Marble Arch. Waiters deposited jugs of water. Buzzards fiddled with microphones, wearing expressions that [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Greil Marcus Breaks Through The Doors</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/greil-marcus-breaks-through-the-doors/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Dmitry Kiper]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:08:16 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1669</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Doors: A Lifetime of Listening to Five Mean Years by Greil Marcus PublicAffairs 2011 &#160; In the twenty-five minutes it takes to drive from Berkeley to San Francisco—in the spring of 2010—Greil Marcus made a curious discovery. Flipping through radio stations in search of a good song, he was surprised to notice that The [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Ladies! Gentlemen! Boys and Girls!</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/ladies-gentlemen-boys-and-girls/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jodi Paloni]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:06:45 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1663</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Greatest Show  by Michael Downs Louisiana State University Press 2012 Michael Downs is the son of a man who­–as a three-year-old boy–did not attend the infamous Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus in Hartford, Connecticut on July 6, 1944, thereby escaping one of the greatest fire disasters in history. Instead, a family quarrel [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>What is the Sound of One Tone Droning?</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/what-is-the-sound-of-one-tone-droning/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Thomas Larson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:04:45 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1659</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Draw a Straight Line and Follow It: The Music and Mysticism of La Monte Young  by Jeremy Grimshaw Oxford University Press 2012 Minimalism. Art’s 50-year-old movement. A force of stasis. Of repetition. Of the barest materials. In writing. Ray Carver. Language eviscerated of ornament. The impact: disturbingly hollow. In painting. Frank Stella. Primary colors, perfect [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Burn of the Everyday</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/the-burn-of-the-everyday/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shaindel Beers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 06:02:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1657</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Wild in the Plaza of Memory  by Pamela Uschuk Wings Press 2012 &#160; Nature looms large in Pamela Uschuk’s Wild in the Plaza of Memory. In one poem alone, “In Dharamsala Among Tibetan Exiles,” “Light slides like a silk sleeve / over the water buffalo shoulders of rocks,” “the flame-tinted lily tilts its six tongues [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Beauty in the Beast</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/beauty-in-the-beast/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Frances Badgett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 05:58:21 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1652</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Map and the Territory  by Michel Houellebecq Translated by Gavin Bowd Alfred A. Knopf 2011 &#160; I’m not going to write about Michel Houellebecq’s shocking public fight with his mother, nor his penchant for sex clubs, nor his charm and wit and reputed sexual prowess. I’m not going to tell you how much he [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Houses of Spirit</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/houses-of-spirit/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Crista Cloutier]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 05:56:30 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1693</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[At Contrary Blog, former Guardian columnist Crista Cloutier is reviewing worship services and settings. Read about the Society of Friends, the London Spiritualist Mission, the Guild of Vergers, the chapel at Arizona&#8217;s Turf Paradise Race Track, and more.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Curl Up With One</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/curl-up-with-one/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Contrary Magazine]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2012 05:48:27 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1431</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In this issue, Contrary features reviews of books by Michel Houellebecq, Greil Marcus, Pamela Uschuk, Jeremy Grimshaw, and Michael Downs. Visit Contrary’s Index of Reviews or the individual links to the right.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/three-poems/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Ronda Broatch]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 07 Apr 2012 06:46:48 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spring 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1594</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Deception, Misread I pull gumdrop from gunpowder, catch Nazi in a list of thirty warning signs of menopause. I skim the pages of a journal take bisexual from bilingual, intersection from Czech and Mexican immigrants. Too often I strike God on the keyboard when I mean good, sold, when all I wanted was soul. A woman from Devon, a feather her fate, was tricked by wind. Wingless she wrecked to beach below. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Kiss My Annulus</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/kiss-my-annulus/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Dolan Morgan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:42:43 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1523</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; Ringing phones start too many stories. Take this one for example. When it rings right at the mouth, we are forced to consider others that open this way – those crime novels, that translation, some classic, a romance, the paperback. And we wonder how to react to it happening again, here. Ring, ring. Are [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Extra Knot</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/the-extra-knot/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Holli Downs]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:40:11 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1540</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[It was me screaming in the reflection of Dr. Maxwell’s sunglasses saying “the kids! the knot! the rope!” and pulling on his sleeve trying to explain what he already knew- that there was an extra knot- that the ropes the organizers gave us were marked with them… the knots I mean, a foot apart- I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Voodoo Sonnets</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/voodoo-sonnets/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Doug Ramspeck]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:30:05 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1507</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I Nothing happened— not my entire life. The punitive pale clay of the body enacted the hours the way the marrow of a bone sleeps inside its chamber. There were Novocain hills beyond the railroad tracks, sodden cigarette butts in the ashtray, choleric crows complaining from the open field. Do you hear what the sky [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>An Eclipse</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/an-eclipse/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Slava Bart]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:28:11 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1513</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The cat had been sleeping in the doghouse. The day was like a cave after a lightning. Birth and death played on a see- saw and sight and night played hide and seek. Time had left no tracks. The ground always seemed to be a step ahead. The very air turned nocturne. Trees dreamed of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Tarbouche Maker</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/the-tarbouche-maker/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Michael A. Telafici]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:28:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1548</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[When they entered they were not sure it was the right alley. They looked up to see scraps of sky between old dark beams like the ribs of a boat. Maybe it was covered once. &#8220;Do you think this is it?&#8221; he asked. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know. I&#8217;m completely turned around.&#8221; They walked a few hesitant [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Home</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/home/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Steve Mitchell]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:26:35 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1280</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[She opens her eyes. She’d squeezed them closed, waiting for the voices to pass her by. As if closing them might allow her to disappear. It was a ritual she’d believed in when she was younger, but now she’s nearly eleven and has lost her faith. She’s wedged between the chest freezer and the cinder [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Self-Avoidant Biographer</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/the-self-avoidant-biographer/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Thomas Larson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:20:50 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1497</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[A Book of Secrets: Illegitimate Daughters, Absent Fathers by Michael Holroyd 2011 Farrar, Straus &#38; Giroux English biographer Sir Michael Holroyd has been bit bad by the Bloomsbury bug—that clique of authors who spawned literary modernism in England during and after the Edwardian Age and whose high priesthood included Virginia Woolf, Lytton Strachey, Vanessa Bell, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Poetic Guidebook to Prague</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/a-poetic-guidebook-to-prague/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shaindel Beers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:14:25 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1501</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[From a Terrace in Prague: A Prague Poetry Anthology Edited by Stephan Delbos Litteraria Pragensia Books 2011 &#160; From a Terrace in Prague is an ambitious literary undertaking. Stephan Delbos, Culture Editor for The Prague Post, gathered 120 poems from 16 languages written between 1888 and 2010 that focus on Prague or events that took [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>To Boldly Go</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/to-boldly-go/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Pauline Masurel]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:10:56 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1491</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Tales of the New World Sabina Murray Black Cat 2011 &#160; On the face of it, Sabina Murray&#8217;s latest collection of tales appears to take up where her PEN/Faulkner Award-winning collection, The Caprices, left off.  Those were tough-edged, yet humane, stories embedded in the Pacific conflicts of World War II.  The final story in that [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Harnessing Darkness</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/harnessing-darkness/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jodi Paloni]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:05:32 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1482</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Other Heartbreaks Patricia Henley Engine Books 2011 &#160; The stories in Other Heartbreaks by Patricia Henley will change you. Now the thin girl who passes you coming out of a gas station restroom—you’ll notice the gray smudges under her eyes. Your own secrets—the ones folded twice or three times inside you that crop up when [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Tom Waits Talks</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/tom-waits-talks/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Dmitry Kiper]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:02:49 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1477</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Tom Waits on Tom Waits: Interviews and Encounters Edited by Paul Maher, Jr. Chicago Review Press 2011 &#160; Over Tom Waits’ long musical career, one thing has remained constant: “Vocabulary,” Waits once said, “is my main instrument.” That sentiment is just as true when Waits is off-stage giving an interview in a cheap diner, an [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Novel of Moments</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2012/a-novel-of-moments/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Frances Badgett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 01 Jan 2012 07:01:27 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2012]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1465</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Greasewood Creek by Pamela Steele Counterpoint 2011 In her debut novel, Greasewood Creek, Pamela Steele draws heavily from the elements of poetry even as she weaves an emotionally complex story. The short chapters feel like stanzas. The phrases and descriptions linger with the reader, and invite repeated readings. The structure is spare and delicate: time [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Yom Kippur</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/yom-kippur/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Janlori Goldman]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:41:22 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1320</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The sunlight didn’t break, we are broken, the word ‘broken’ is broken. ~ Yehuda Amichai &#160; Today, everything hurts, and I’m as close to god as I’ll ever come, or want to be.  I try to forgive myself, fist knocking at the chest, a door that forgot how to open.  The prayer book’s spine against [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Time Stands Still</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/time-stands-still/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[David Allen Sullivan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:40:17 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1324</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I sail in my dreams, I am dreaming of home. ~ Osama Abu Kabir, from Poem s from Guantanamo &#160; For a Casio, &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;for the way its back case can &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;come undone, expose the mechanism &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;that can be wired to a bomb. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;For a Casio, whose silver face glistened &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;when he washed himself for prayers. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>with all the bright lights on</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/with-all-the-bright-lights-on/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Delaney Nolan]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:38:19 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1286</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[the alarm clocks were the first to turn. you reached with morning pulleys at your eyes in the bone-colored light to slap at the clock that wasnt singing. figured you set it wrong and went to work where eventually word got around because everyone shrugs in late and embarrassed and then, gathered in jessicas office [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Rabbi of Seventy-Second Street</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-rabbi-of-seventy-second-street/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Bezalel Stern]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:30:47 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1291</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Rabbi of Seventy-Second Street, a kabbalist, wore his hat inside out. He claimed this was not for mystical reasons, but simply so he could show himself to the world as he felt himself to be. The Rabbi of Seventy-Second Street, when he left his home, which was not often, would stream through the crowds [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Garage Sale Daze Meditations</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-garage-sale-daze-meditations/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Joe Wilkins]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:03:16 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1331</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[i Look at them, slumped in the corner there. Ears pounded and mouse-bitten, ragged legs askew. Rubber lips kissing cold cement. Even here, among the abandoned, they are twice forsaken: the coffee cup, chipped to a wobble, is ever at hand; the faded sweater desires shoulders, sure, but a hanger anyway does the trick; even [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>I Am Large. I Contain Multitudes.</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/i-am-large-i-contain-multitudes/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Thomas Larson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 14:59:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reviews]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1335</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Bob Dylan: Like a Complete Unknown by David Yaffe Yale University Press 2011 The day after John F. Kennedy’ s inauguration, fifty years ago, Robert Zimmerman, of Hibbing, Minnesota, who had rechristened himself Bob Dylan in honor of the Welsh poet, first arrived in New York City. He got off the bus, tramped over to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>What I recommend: This novel</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/what-i-recommend-this-novel/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Frances Badgett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 14:55:32 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reviews]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1348</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Call by Yannick Murphy Harper Perennial 2011 What I Read: The Call by Yannick Murphy Favorite Quote: “Because light takes a while to travel, what we’re seeing is always in the past.” How It Is Structured: The Call is written in diary-like entries told from the point of view of David Appleton, a veterinarian [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Ultimate Mashup</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-ultimate-mashup/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shaindel Beers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 14:50:24 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Reviews]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1340</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Invisible Mink by Jessie Janeshek Iris Press 2010 Jessie Janeshek’s Invisible Mink is a collection worth devoting your time to and, in fact, one which can only be properly enjoyed as a project. Nearly all of the poems in Invisible Mink are based on movies from the 1930s and 1940s, and I fully intend to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Devil&#8217;s in the Details</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-devils-in-the-details/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jodi Paloni]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 14:45:53 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1344</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Volt by Alan Heathcock Graywolf Press 2011 Ain’t nothing but trouble for the fictional town of Krafton, Somewhere Prairie, USA. In fact, any one of the searing tragedie s or subtle terrors depicted in Alan Heathcock’s debut story collection would be enough to set folks in a small town reeling, except even taken together they [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>An Inclusive Poetic World</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/an-inclusive-poetic-world/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shevi Berlinger]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 14:31:20 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1354</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Underdog by Katrina Roberts University of Washington Press 2011 &#160; While reading Katrina Roberts’s fourth book of poetry, Underdog, I felt as if I had travelled into the inner workings of the author’s mind – a big, loving, generous, voraciously inquisitive mind. In Underdog, it seems any moment can be caught and brought to light, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The Twin</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-twin/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hannah Stephenson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 12:14:04 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1411</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[She does everything you choose not to and returns each night while you sleep, ever loyal. When you are alone, buried in thoughts like warm sand, then you feel her there. Whatever you want to give her, she will take, all of it. Her expertise is in safe keeping. Her body is made up of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Anchor in the Sea Change</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/anchor-in-the-sea-change/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[David Alm]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Oct 2011 12:01:12 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1425</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Contrary Blog Anchor David Alm is a journalist and a professor of journalism in New York. At Contrary Blog he h as been pursuing changes in education, media, reading, music, film and more as the human animal goes digital.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Love Like All the Stars in the Sky</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/love-like-all-the-stars-in-the-sky/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rafael Torch]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jul 2011 08:21:57 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2011]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4514</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My mother told me just this morning (Friday, June 17, 2011) that I should write something about how my affliction with cancer is really an affliction that the whole family has in some way. I believe her. I believe it.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Two Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/tools/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Karina Borowicz]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 05:59:56 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2011]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1035</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Tools Hammer and hacksaw, vise and screwdriver have the hard gaze and slow heartbeat of reptiles. I am visiting the hardware store with my father. In a wooden drawer stained by dirty fingers a sea of nails rolls back and forth. The bare light bulb burning in the middle of the ceiling cuts deep shadows [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Vaucluse</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/vaucluse/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Laura Elizabeth Woollett]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 04:26:38 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2011]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1086</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; Virid is the spring that snakes through our garden   dappled with sun-shade (snake-skin)    surrounded by choked-up laurels and strange purple flowers that waver in the water like reflected nightmares “Let me show you La Fontaine,” I take his hand and lead him up the garden path, deeper, ducking our heads for the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>My father had this girlfriend</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/my-father-had-this-girlfriend/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Oline Eaton]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 04:05:46 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2011]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=972</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My father had this girlfriend. Her name was Gemma Fay. She looked like Mia Farrow. I think. I only saw her once and she was naked then. Gemma Fay was my father’s first girlfriend and, therefore, the anti-hero of every cautionary tale he ever told. For years, she represented the myriad horrors that awaited me [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Ballad of a bumble bee trapped in honey</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/ballad-of-a-bumble-bee-trapped-in-honey/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Matthew Burnside]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 03:42:30 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2011]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1094</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[That dizzying last summer we explored the one billion possibilities of bumblebee assassination. We learned lacing the curb with Dr. Pepper to lure them under a false pretense of sweetness was easiest, most merciful, for the shadows of our black devil shoe soles were guillotine-swift and double-quick to evict the poor souls from their black [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Strange birds</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/strange-birds/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 03:06:01 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Summer 2011]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1105</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The cloud cleared and the sun broke through. Exotic birds with warm colours, probably from Africa, landed on the back wall, as light as air and yet strong enough to cross deserts and oceans. I&#8217;m no ornithologist but I&#8217;d say they belong to the tit family. One thing you don&#8217;t expect is a vulture to [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Single Life #18</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/single-life-18/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Amy Groshek]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 03:04:09 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[Then she says, of e.e. cummings, that when one resorts to numbering poems instead of titling them, it&#8217;s clear that each is merely the passage of time between tumblers of whiskey, the most recent version of an old trick for the acquisition of women, and I am cockswollen enough to confess that that is what [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Virgin Mary</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/virgin-mary/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kate Douglas]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 03:02:24 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1073</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I am a garden locked up. Listen here. I am not interested in being threaded through a needle or woven into your tapestry. The eye is too fine. My kneecaps are too wide. I am a spring enclosed. Intimacy means being bruised all the time. And someone else’s thumb is pressing pressing pressing watching the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The past is present</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-past-is-present/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cynthia Newberry Martin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:59:56 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-past-is-present/</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The Bird Sisters Rebecca Rasmussen Crown Publishers 2011 &#160; When they were teenagers, Milly hoped to marry and have children, while Twiss hoped to stand on the Continental Divide and “to be the world’s most interesting spinster.” Rebecca Rasmussen’s debut novel, The Bird Sisters, opens at least half a century later with Milly and Twiss [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>The non-expert expert</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-non-expert-expert/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Thomas Larson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:56:56 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[Otherwise Known As the Human Condition: Selected Essays and Reviews 1989-2010 Geoff Dyer 2011 Graywolf No writer I know occupies as many rooms in the storied compound of arts criticism as Geoff Dyer. In Graywolf’s mix of Dyer’s two British-published anthologies (one in 1999; the other, 2010), the peripatetic author traverses photography, film, music, and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>For better and for worse</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/for-better-and-for-worse/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Harriett Green]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:50:18 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/2011/for-better-and-for-worse/</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[And Yet They Were Happy Helen Phillips Leapfrog Press 2011 &#160; In her first book, And Yet They Were Happy, Helen Phillips doesn&#8217;t begin at the beginning, or even, as some writers do, at the end. Instead, she selects themes—some sacred and some intimate, some ordinary and some fantastical, some political and some apocalyptic—to weave [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Poems that bridge rational and mystical</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/poems-that-can-touch/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shevi Berlinger]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:45:33 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[Northerners Seth Abramson New Issues Poetry &#38; Prose 2011 &#160; Certain poems evoke a feeling of turning inward and focusing a scope on particulars, so that the world seems to stop, and the leaf, the candle, the frost are the center of the universe. Other poems create a sense in the reader of breadth and [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Separation and more separation</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/separation-and-more-separation/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jodi Paloni]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:40:22 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[You Know When the Men Are Gone Siobhan Fallon Amy Einhorn Books 2011 &#160; When war zone landscapes flash across the news, some of us, safe in our living rooms, worry about American soldiers overseas. But how often do civilians consider the impact of lengthy deployments and anticipated homecomings on the families left to commune [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Teaching caged birds to sing</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/teaching-caged-birds-to-sing/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Grace Wells]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 Jun 2011 02:38:58 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[A Journey with Two Maps: Becoming a Woman Poet Eavan Boland Carcanet Press Ltd (UK) and W.W. Norton &#38; Company (USA) 2011 &#160; A woman poet, according to Eavan Boland, needs to resolve her relation to poetic tradition. We need to map the past, “not to learn from it, but to change it;” if we [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>How far from nothing</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/how-far-from-nothing/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rafael Torch]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 20 Jun 2011 19:24:55 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1237</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In the Spring issue of Contrary Magazine, Rafael Torch wrote about returning to lead a high-school classroom after chemo therapy. His fight has continued, and he&#8217;s been keeping us posted—in hope and in tears— at Contrary Blog.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Summer reading</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/summer-reading/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Contrary Magazine]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 20 Jun 2011 18:49:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/?p=1233</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[In this issue, Contrary features reviews of books by Rebecca Rasmussen, Geoff Dyer, Helen Phillips, Seth Abramson, Siobhan Fallon, and Eavan Bol and. Visit Contrary&#8217; s Index of Review s or the individual links to the right.]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems: The Soldiers</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/the-soldiers-temple-cone/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Temple Cone]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 12 Mar 2011 03:53:45 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=120</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[&#160; The Soldiers Today, soldiers will be born in white hospitals or beside drainage ditches, on lonely farms or in stalled cars, their mothers and fathers transformed into makers of soldiers, whether from an act of lawful union (a Paris hotel, the window open, stars) or the brutal dream-fever of rape (huts and fields burning, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems: What the Classics Teach</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/what-the-classics-teach-temple-cone/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Temple Cone]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 12 Mar 2011 03:52:17 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=398</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[What the Classics Teach For thousands of years, they have searched fresh parchment or yellowed pages, human eyes bright with youth or bleary from too many nights reading by dim candle or lamplight, seeking answers to ancient questions: how to stab a man, how to die shouting, divide a community, collapse under the dark madness [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Three Poems: Burning Sappho</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/burning-sappho-temple-cone/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Temple Cone]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 12 Mar 2011 03:51:49 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=401</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Burning Sappho “you burn me” ~ Sappho fr.38, trans. Anne Carson First, understand no one felt regret. This tenth Muse, whose limbs loosened at a touch, melting swift as tallow into tears, sang of slatterns and sluts, made love a city pimp, tricked out Psyche in cheapest rouge. She plucked hearts easily as lyre strings, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Sophomore</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/sophomore-nick-courtright/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Nick Courtright]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 09 Mar 2011 15:14:51 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=116</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Begin: today you are born, the universe is born, whatever that is is born and has its purpose. Flowers are born, sea life and mountain are born, the positions of the moon are born, the deer clumsy in the meadow is born— it is falling away from its mother, it tries to stand but struggles [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>A Lawnmower’s One of the Babies I’d Have</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/lawnmower-babies-hannah-craig/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hannah Craig]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 09 Mar 2011 06:01:54 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=210</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[(after Lorine Niedecker) In the high weeds, I’d bite. Snap the little sticks, bash a nest in the dying grass. That would be me, bearing down among daisies and the branched broomrape. No pity for a babe mean as that—no way to hold her, no way to hold her back. There she’d go—all bad teeth [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>If for days on end&#8230;</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/if-for-days-on-end-edward-mc-whinney/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 09 Mar 2011 05:21:39 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=608</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[February. All night a storm raged like World War Three. Thunder and lightning rent the heavens. Wind shook the foundations and rain flooded the chutes. At first light, tankers, trawlers and freighters were still bouncing on harbour waters. Then, slowly, it subsided, shadows of cloud drifting over sea and earth. The clearance after a storm [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Red</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/red-by-karen-carr/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Karen L Carr]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 09 Mar 2011 03:53:14 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=541</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Then, there was the next time, the last time, the one time when things became grand enough to unfurl all sense of belonging, a hearty red ribbon, carried behind, blowing in deep ripples, red, yes red, always red. What was red? She never knew, and never wanted to know about red—the red of roses or [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Paging Stevie Cavallero</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/paging-stevie-cavallero-rafael-torch/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Rafael Torch]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 08 Mar 2011 17:59:55 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=234</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[My co-workers greeted me in the faculty lounge of the Las Vegas private school where I teach American literature with hugs and slaps on the back, as if I’d just finished a long, grueling race, a race I’d run with such speed, made up with such endurance and stamina, that I’d broken records. We stood [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Lullaby for Galatea</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/lullaby-for-galatea-r-gatwood/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[R Gatwood]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 08 Mar 2011 17:40:49 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=561</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I never meant for you to wake up. What I wanted and prayed for was not what I meant to happen. Your friction-warmed surface, your curves my own hands carved and defined, your medium too rich and hard to be worn away in one man’s lifetime—I would never have given all this up, my love, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Searching for who we are</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/under-the-mercy-trees-heather-newton/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cynthia Newberry Martin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Mar 2011 16:11:04 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=164</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Under the Mercy Trees by Heather Newton Harper 2011 Buy this book I once stood at my grandfather’s knee, watching him do tricks with rocks. Later I backpacked by myself in France. I married at twenty, became an attorney in a high-powered Atlanta law firm, then the mother of four. With one friend, I walk [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Motherhood, disenthralled</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/bring-down-the-little-birds-carmen-gimenez-smith/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Thomas Larson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 06 Mar 2011 23:15:48 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=191</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Bring Down the Little Birds by Carmen Giménez Smith 2010 The University of Arizona Press Buy this book This slim memoir is soaked in the partum-based worry many mothers-to-be endure. The birth year Giménez Smith covers overlaps with her mother’s prognosis of, and tre atment for, a brain tumor. These threads, as well as some [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Bright and shiny life</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/while-mortals-sleep-kurt-vonnegut/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Pauline Masurel]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Mar 2011 19:14:06 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=281</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[While Mortals Sleep: Unpublished Short Fiction by Kurt Vonnegut Delacorte Press 2011 Buy this book In his 1997 book Timequake, Kurt Vonnegut wrote, “a plausible mission of artists is to make people appreciate being alive at least a little bit.” Vonnegut was the Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, and he once wrote, “When I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Something thin in her pocket</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/talismans-sybil-baker/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Jodi Paloni]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Mar 2011 21:38:23 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=180</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Talismans by Sybil Baker C &#38; R Press 2010 Buy this book In Sybil Baker’s linked story collection, Talismans, readers simultaneously experience the emotional and geographic territory of Elise­’s world as she navigates loss and pursues connection–from girl to woman and from small-town Virginia to Southeast Asia. While each story represents a key moment in [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Language and sexuality in an uneven weave</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/laura-mccullough-speech-acts/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Shaindel Beers]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Mar 2011 02:57:31 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=574</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Speech Acts by Laura McCullough Black Lawrence Press 2010 Buy this book &#160; In her poem “What Can Happen in the Dunes,” Laura McCullough writes: My body was fertile, then not, then fecund, again, with language. There’s a connection between the throat and vagina; tighten one, they both clench, the throat taking what’s bitten off, [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Older Archives</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/contrary-magazine-archives-2003-2010/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Contrary Magazine]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Mar 2011 23:13:36 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[• 2010 Archives • 2003-2009 Archives]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>More Stories by Edward Mc Whinney</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2011/edward-mc-whinney/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Mar 2011 14:08:14 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://contrarymagazine.com/adesh/?p=685</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Edward Mc Whinney lives in Cork, Ireland. He&#8217;s neither all that young nor all that old. He has been a regular contributor to Contrary, writing stories of Irish life and Spanish exile. This is an index of his stories published in Contrary, 2005-2011. For more recent stories, please do click here. &#160; The Cork Landscapes: Advice: [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
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		<title>Allegory</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2010/allegory/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kiki Petrosino]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2010 08:00:39 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>The Empty Armchair</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2009/the-empty-armchair/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Cynthia Newberry Martin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2009 08:00:59 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>Darwin: Three Poems</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2009/darwin-three-poems/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Marilyn Kallet]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2009 08:00:19 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>Travelogue</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2009/travelogue/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Hilary Dobel]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2009 08:00:16 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>Plum Island</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2007/plum-island/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Andrew Coburn]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 2007 08:17:40 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Winter 2007]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4525</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[I don’t know his name. He never said it.  Nor did I mention mine. I’ve seen him here before, this hour of the day, the sun sinking, ebb tide, and on this same spot on Plum Island, where he stands apart from the other fishermen, who look like fishermen.  He doesn’t.   They have the [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
		
		
			</item>
		<item>
		<title>Ascenscion</title>
		<link>https://contrarymagazine.com/2005/ascenscion/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kevin Heath]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Oct 2005 08:17:29 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archives]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2023 20th Anniversary]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Commentary / Non-Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Autumn 2005]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://contrarymagazine.com/?p=4519</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[When he met me, he stood so close to the lunch table that I had to look straight up him, as one might look up the contours of an overhanging cliff, which meant that he had to look straight down at me, as one might look over the very edge of the cliff.]]></description>
		
		
		
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