“The Art Of Teaching” by Erin Stalcup

A piece by alum Erin Stalcup (fiction, ’04) appears at Stir:

“That girl can’t roll her Rs.”

That’s the first thing a student ever said about me, my first day of teaching, while I called roll and Yahaira Rodríguez, Dulcita Contreras, Yafreisi Ríos, Ydanis Reyes, Guillermo Méndez, Julissa Cruz, Yakimela Betriz Núñez, Vladimir Díaz, Alfonica Ramirez, and Zuleika Ramirez either were or weren’t there.

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“If You’ve Made it this Far, You Might as Well Leave a Message” by Matthew Olzmann

A nonfiction piece, “If You’ve Made it this Far, You Might as Well Leave a Message,” by alum Matthew Olzmann (poetry, ’09) appears at Waxwing:

If you’re listening to my voice, it’s too late for me, but there’s still time to save yourself. What you need to know is this: our dead would not stay dead. We fought them off for as long as we could, but soon most of us were infected and joined their ranks. We’ve run out of ammunition and they’re so hungry.

If you called my house in the middle part of the 1990s, that’s the type of message you’d hear when the answering machine picked up. A fake apocalypse — and in the background some guy trying not to laugh.

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“In Our Country” by Caitlin Horrocks

The story “In Our Country” by faculty member Caitlin Horrocks appears at Waxwing:

This country used to be pronounced like this. Now we pronounce it like this. Old people, or foreign people, you know them from the way they say it: wrong. There is famine in that country now. There is plague. Now no one goes there. Even the people who live there, they try to leave. This country — and when I say this country I never mean my country, I mean this other country, over there — was once one country but now it is four. This country is now two. This country still pretends to be one but is really one hundred.

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“Fatherhood” by David Rutschman

The story “Fatherhood” by alum David Rutschman (fiction, ’02) appears at Waxwing:

I was teaching my son to throw stones into the water when he became a stone and I threw him in the water.

“My boy, my darling boy,” I called and I hurled myself after him and I became a stone and we tumbled down to the silent muddy bottom.

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Two Poems by Gary Copeland Lilley

Two poems by alum Gary Copeland Lilley (poetry, ’02), “I Told You” and “The Bushman’s Medicine Show,” appear at Waxwing:

I Told You

Her voice was an earworm in my head
over and over a constant cerebral crawl
I-told-you-you-can-not-trust-Jake who I lent
the 100 bucks that I could be
taking her out to dinner with

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