The Fourth River

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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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Essay: “Driving the Section Line,” by Sarah K. Lenz

By on February 29, 2016

From The Fourth River, issue 12   “This is where I want you to spread my ashes,” my father says. “When I die, cremate me and dump me here.” I look to the edge of the ravine. A rotten fence