Empty Silos
There Are Railroad Tracks that Run Through this Town by Leah Angstman
that go somewhere, but I’ve never known where. Somewhere, on both sides, we’re connected to someone else’s town, but in between is here. And here smells of spiraea and lilacs,…
Empty SilosSweet Corn from a Roadside Stall by Leah Angstman
“Quarter a ear,” she says, “I’ll shuck it for a extra nickel.” She needs the nickel more than I— the accent hard and guttural, back of the throat—haven’t the heart…