The Fourth River



Poem: “Beheaded Deer, The Power Lines Near Brewster Lake,” by Kate Belew

By on October 7, 2016

From The Fourth River, Issue 11   Listen to Kate Belew read “Beheaded Deer, The Power Lines Near Brewster Lake”   It was too late by the time the last sparks flew. I had already been tangled in the webs

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Tributaries: “Jesus Year”

By on October 5, 2016

 By Christopher Martin I would’ve never believed that this age, here and now, I’d be sitting in this rust-stained tub, soaking in vinegar to relieve chigger bites speckling my legs, wounds amassed the other night walking a meadow along Allatoona


Tributaries: “Tallgrass”

By on September 21, 2016

by Ellie A. Rogers         Ellie A. Rogers holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Western Washington University. Her poems have most recently appeared in Camas, Cirque, and Redivider. She has also served as the assistant managing editor of


Poem: “The Spineless,” by Lois Marie Harrod

By on March 14, 2016

From The Fourth River, Issue 12   No use telling the jellyfish to stand up for herself or the footless slug to stand his ground. Most amoebae are wobbly as curdled milk and even the centipede for all his feet

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A Second Look: “Hot Air Ballooning,” by Erin Jourdan

By on December 17, 2014

In this new series, the staff of The Fourth River comb back through our archives to find and share with you the pieces they believe deserve a second look. Floating in Poetry -by Amanda Long, The Fourth River Staff  


Poem: “Among Landowners and Industrial Stakeholders, a Citizen with Too Much Memory Seeks Standing to Speak of Recent Events in Penn’s Woods,” by Julia Spicher Kasdorf

By on December 8, 2014

When I drive south on I -78, diagonal highway from New York to Harrisburg, the Blue Mountain presses my right shoulder for miles, dividing coal tipples from barns with hex signs, French and Indian territory from the British colony. At

Poem: “The Rocket,” by Adam Tavel

By on August 27, 2012

for Andrew Foose Interstate battery, alligator clips, two lengths of copper wire snaking to the slender rocket perched on cinderblock—this ignition is the best we can muster. Zachary counts backwards to a blastoff no eye registers, a wet crackle and

Poem: “Neighbors on Elizabeth Street,” by Katharyn Howd Machan

By on May 1, 2012

They understand each other, these two houses: worn wood painted once, twice, thrice then let to weather where it will, hurricanes’ kiss, rain’s promise. Porches down and porches up, balconies, storm-shuttered windows, screens against jewel-winged beetles, bats that might settle,

Poem: “Lost in Lower Manhattan,” by Liz Dolan

By on March 18, 2012

  As dusk descends I shrink into the collar of my blue chesterfield, quicken my step.  I use my books as a shield before my chest to deflect their stares while a phalanx of drunks huddles around fires in steel