
Return Policy
by Roberto Ontiveros Laina was not the kind of klepto that ever got caught, or rather: I was the only one who noticed the fountain pens behind her ears when … Continue Reading Return Policy
A Literary Magazine Sponsored by The University of Maine at Farmington
The River is a representation of the Sandy River itself, which runs alongside the university and what inspired the name of the journal. It is a constantly flowing, ebbing and surging, body of content filled with contemporary work. To submit to The River please visit our Submissions page to the left or e mail TheRiverEditors@gmail.com directly.
by Roberto Ontiveros Laina was not the kind of klepto that ever got caught, or rather: I was the only one who noticed the fountain pens behind her ears when … Continue Reading Return Policy
by David Sapp Don’t get me wrong. I am generally content with the inhabitants of my life – those close to me. However, occasionally, I prefer the company of chance … Continue Reading Acquaintances
by Mark Jackley “NEW YEAR’S EVE” Upon inventing the puzzle, our forebears left the garden, searching for answers, oddly shaped pieces of the picture. Tonight, uncounted snowflakes land on cars, … Continue Reading “NEW YEAR’S EVE,” “BODY AND SOUL,” “JANUARY DREAM,” and “THE LAST HOUSE YOU LIVED IN”
by David Sapp Every Thanksgiving morning on the Gambier farm, while the women bustled about the warm kitchen in floured aprons over flowered print dresses, hips bumping at countertops, chairs … Continue Reading A Satisfying Failure
by Don Thompson “Little Elegy” Last night I found her name Listed in the catalog Of dead sisters. Just one of many—so many. Touching it, my finger burned, My tongue … Continue Reading “Little Elegy,” “Kansas, 1950 “Dirge,” and “Nunc Dimmittus”
by Jeanne Julian “Stalled” Once, I was corralled into competing against other tense and giddy youthful thespians delivering emotive monologues. Mid- recitation— mental block. Suspense. Voice stopped, choked by … Continue Reading “Stalled,” “The Familiar,” and “The Visitation”
by Darrell Dela Cruz “Ars Poetica” -For the Watergarden The pain has no singular outlet, dispersed amongst the nerves amplified in the spread which you rub as … Continue Reading “Ars Poetica,” “Nude Illusion,” and “Post Verbal”
by Gregory T. Janetka Damn television sets. Three blaring away and the sun not yet up. Noxious distractions—news that’s not news, fearmongering, adverts for pills for conditions they don’t … Continue Reading The Marriage in Waiting
by Cordelia Hanemann “alone” for Louis as for all “Second Honeymoon” a meditation on Bobbie Ann Mason’s “Shiloh” At Shiloh dead soldiers march across green new grass. “We could begin … Continue Reading “alone,” “Second Honeymoon,” “Domestic Strife,” “auto-manic,” and “(St) Eve
by Anonymous Troops of soldiers march down the horizon-wide pathin unison trying to make us believe everything is in order. A few of them perhaps still working to believe the … Continue Reading Republic Day juxtaposition
by Eugene Stevenson “To La Scala in the Rain” Ten hours late Octoberthrough New York rain,over Atlantic storms,under Milanese fog, toLa Scala in mist & rain. No sleep, as if … Continue Reading “To La Scala in the Rain,” “June Brides,” and “Guilty of Something”
by Salvatore Difalco Every time Alfonsus entered a room an unearthly glowing light suffused it. I wondered if he was religious. He typically wore a cross of gold, indicating either … Continue Reading THE ONLY SIN IS PRIDE
by John Tustin “CREST” My body riding on the Crest Of your body The waves of us Undulating Under the moon That guides our Force Toward the blankets of shore … Continue Reading “Crest” and “Funeral Poem Painted on Silk”
by Thomas Elson “Her Toast Untouched” “Visiting Again” “One Morning Each Week” Thomas Elson’s stories appear in numerous venues, including Ellipsis, Better Than Starbucks, Bull, Cabinet of Heed, Flash Frontier, … Continue Reading “Her Toast Untouched,” “Visiting Again,” and “One Morning Each Week”
by Robert Helfst Lampyridae Five years ago, your mother burst into a cloud of fireflies and disappeared into the night. Ever since, you’ve tracked the bugs in the backyard, searching … Continue Reading “Lampyridae” and “Lobatus Gigas”
by Shannon Frost Greenstein “I love you!” My friends laughed as only sixteen year-olds can, but I wasn’t embarrassed. My mother and I were as close as any single parent … Continue Reading Abandon All Faith Ye Who Enter Here