A poem by alum Laura Swearingen-Steadwell (poetry, ’14) appears at The Cortland Review:

Eight hours standing, stocking beer coolers
before the local men shuffled in after work,
brown and worn from building in the sun,
or windburned, caked with ocean salt. I wiped fat
off the cylinders of the hot dog machine until
I smelled metal; made change; spoke to anyone:

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