Amarillo Bay 
 Volume 13 Number 2 

Amarillo Bay Contents
Volume 13 Number 2

We are pleased to present the second issue of our thirteenth year, published on Monday, 16 May 2011. We hope you enjoy browsing through our extensive collection of fiction, creative nonfiction, and poetry! (See the Works List to discover the over 500 works in our collection, including the ability to search through the issues.)


Fiction

The Fake Boyfriend of my Crazy August
   by Margaret Holmes
Margaret Holmes

Margaret Holmes graduated from Harvard with a bachelor's degree in English and earned an M.F.A. in creative writing from the University of California at Irvine. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Confrontation, New Orleans Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Quiddity, roger, The Talon Magazine, and Zone 3. She was nominated for Best New American Voices 2007. She lives outside of Boston with her family.

It was late summer, and I'd been alone, and the result was that boys, all boys, all men, made me frisky. So I was mixed up with John Kakwa and Hank Featherstone.

Kakwa first.

"John," Dr. Linklater said the third week in August. The doctor led the therapy group I'd been persuaded to join that winter, after I'd worn snagged mauve tights to work a few too many times. I'd been lonely, and I'd lost track of things.

"We haven't seen you in a while, John," the doctor said. "Tell us what's been going on."

Kakwa was a massive Kenyan who didn't come to group much, and he didn't usually pay attention to me. That had seemed like pointed neglect and had thus piqued my interest.

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Half Full Circle
   by Rhonda Gill
Rhonda Gill

Rhonda Gill lives in Southwest Virginia with her family, too many pets, and an insatiable need to write. The mountain community around her provides endless inspiration. Along with authoring two novels, Rhonda has penned numerous stories based on the antics of real citizens. All names have been changed to protect the innocent.

"Mom, they're all gone!"

The wail of my firstborn crescendos through the house from two rooms away. I set the fishbowl I'm holding back on the kitchen counter, and the betta inside it gives me a baleful look. Irie's water is filthy, and he depends on me to clean it. Although he's just a fish, I definitely sense an attitude when his needs go ignored.

"My Princess Barbie. Anastasia, Blue Skipper and Mermaid Barbie . . . all of them, just . . ." The pause as my daughter draws a breath seems pressurized, an air lock of pubescent emotion. "Gone!"

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Hoops
   by Miriam N. Kotzin
Miriam N. Kotzin

Miriam N. Kotzin has published a collection of Flash Fiction, Just Desserts, (Star Cloud Press, 2010) and two collections of poetry, with a third, Taking Stock, to be published by Star Cloud in 2011. Her work has received five nominations for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in many print and online publications such as The Pedestal, Boulevard, Confrontation, Eclectica, and Southern Humanities Reivew. She teaches creative writing and literature at Drexel University, where she also co-directs the Certificate Program in Writing and Publishing. She is a contributing editor for Boulevard and a Founding Editor of Per Contra. This is her fourth appearance in Amarillo Bay.

We'd driven past miles of wild rose hedges on the way, each a tumble of pink bloom—I'd stopped exclaiming when I realized they weren't supposed to be anything special. We passed dozens of brown cedar shake cottages like the one in the photo on Jake's desk before he slowed to a stop. Four identical white SUV's sat along the road like a row of ducks. His became number five.

Jake's dad owned a dealership.

We left the luggage in the car and headed towards the voices and rhythmic thuds that came from the driveway where a basketball game was underway. Jake's twin brother, Todd, had the ball, and, when he saw Jake, called out, "Bro'!" and tossed the ball to him.

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Kenny Luzader Will Outlive Us All
   by Leslie Teel
Leslie Teel

Leslie Teel grew up in Huntington, West Virginia. She currently lives, works, and writes in Watertown, Massachusetts. Her fiction appeared in the February 2011 issue of Blue Lake Review.

"On a day like today you really do wonder about your own life." Becky collapsed into one of Kay's kitchen chairs and removed the Saran Wrap from the plate of butterscotch haystacks a neighbor had left. "And God knows mine's been such a waste." She bit a haystack in half and broke into a wail. "Oh, Kay-kay, why did this have to happen to you? We all just loved Nick so."

Kay took a deep breath and gripped the handle of the coffee carafe. If her sister said "Kay-kay" one more time in that little baby voice that had been annoying when she was three and was now positively grotesque, Kay was going to smash something, maybe several things, starting with the glass carafe. She and Nick had accidentally broken several of them over the years so she knew from experience that they shattered in a way that would be quite satisfying.

Maybe she'd better take another Xanax before the crowd from the funeral home arrived.

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Stumbling Toward Grace
   by Rosalia Scalia
Rosalia Scalia

Rosalia Scalia, who earned a master's degree in writing from Johns Hopkins University in 2003, serves as an assistant editor at Narrative Magazine. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Baltimore Review; North Atlantic Review; Pebble Lake Review; The Portland Review; Quercus Review; Smile, Hon, You're in Baltimore; South Asian Ensemble, Pennsylvania English; Spout Magazine; and Taproot.  Her first novel, Delia's Concerto, is nearing completion. An earlier version of the first chapter was one of seven finalists in a competition held by the National League of American Pen Women. She lives in Baltimore, Md.

It was during a particularly nasty ice storm in the winter of 2009 that brought Baltimore to a standstill when Adolph Ott realized, at age 87, that he missed his daughter, Polly, and more deeply than he wanted to admit to anyone. For a brief moment as he trudged through the snow and sleet, walking in the tracks left by the salt trucks, he imagined her walking with him, steadying him under his elbow so he wouldn't fall, visiting him on Sundays with her family. Then, remembering her family, considering what they must look like, he shook the image from his mind. He'd never been the kind of man who leaned on a woman, any woman, no matter the circumstance, and Polly had made her choice—she'd married that black man against his wishes, without his approval or blessing.

Adolph trod carefully, avoiding shiny surfaces that could be ice. Walking the six blocks to the church through the snow took longer than usual, even with his rubber-skidded boots, but he moved slowly forward, leaning on the sides of parked cars to steady himself. The snow's coldness bit through his gloves, and his fingers began feeling numb. The effort winded him. He avoided sidewalks, which his neighbors had not yet cleared. Although Fr. Mark had assured him that the furnace would be fine and had urged him to stay home, Adolph knew that the furnace needed him. He considered it his furnace, and he took pride in keeping it as fine-tuned as a Stradivarius. For 22 years, ever since he retired, Adolph had maintained the church's heating and air-conditioning systems. Thanks to his precision and his keen dedication to detail, St. Elizabeth's Church hadn't experienced a day without either heat or air-conditioning.

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Creative Nonfiction

There's an App For That
   by Andrea Esparza
Andrea Esparza

Andrea Esparza was born and raised in the small West Texas town of Lamesa. She attended nearby Texas Tech University, where she obtained her undergraduate degree in business administration with a major in Management Information Systems. She spent the next seven years working in information technology and configuration management in the computer industry, when she decided she wanted to take her career in a different direction. In the fall of 2007, she entered into the MLA program at St. Edwards University and is focusing her studies on English and writing.

It's a double date of sorts—four old friends getting together for dinner at Gino's Pizzeria in old Round Rock, Texas. The buttery aroma of fresh baked bread and garlic-spiced oils intoxicate us, as we are lead to a candlelit table in a back corner. We are particularly hungry this evening, and our eyes devour menu details. We place our order with an upbeat waitress. I decide on a heaping plate of pesto and shrimp linguine, while the remainder of the table shares an extra large, extra cheesy pepperoni pizza. As the waitress gathers our menus, I instinctively reach for my phone to update my Facebook status:

Andrea Esparza checked in at Gino's Pizzeria

I tap the tiny screen with conviction and drop the virtual pin on the digital map of my real-life. Now everyone in Facebook world can know exactly where I am. I put the phone off to the side—for now. I look around the table at the rest of my dinner party, silent—all three of their faces illuminated not by the flickering flame of the oil lamp, but by the ghostly, bluish hue of their iPhone screens. Laura is pondering her next move on a "Words With Friends" game, while her husband, Dan, browses through videos on YouTube. My fiancé, Roland, has received a notice that I have tagged him in my check-in at Gino's, so naturally, he takes to perusing the Facebook newsfeed.

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Poetry

Bee
   by Perrin Carrell
Perrin Carrell

Perrin Carrell is an MFA candidate at Columbia College Chicago. His poems and essays have appeared or are forthcoming in The Exquisite Corpse Annual, Ophelia Street, The Coachella Review, and GC Advocate, among others. He is also the founder and director of the community-published poetry magazine, allwritethen (www.allwritethen.org).

A little fear,
this bee on my chest. Dad told me
he was addicted to meth for years and that he was sorry.

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Diet Coke
   by Perrin Carrell
Perrin Carrell

Perrin Carrell is an MFA candidate at Columbia College Chicago. His poems and essays have appeared or are forthcoming in The Exquisite Corpse Annual, Ophelia Street, The Coachella Review, and GC Advocate, among others. He is also the founder and director of the community-published poetry magazine, allwritethen (www.allwritethen.org).

A teenager named Chad Alexander blasted
me in the face with a high-powered
water gun. He was big. Over six feet,
over two hundred pounds. Big. He wouldn't
let me into my house—just kept squirting
and laughing and calling me a little shit.

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Fireflies
   by Barbara Brooks
Barbara Brooks

Barbara Brooks, a poet for 15 years, has had her poems published in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Charlotte Poetry Review, The River's Edge and Kerf among others. Her chapbook, "The Catbird Sang" has been published by Finishing Line Press. Many of her poems are based on the observations of nature. She is a physical therapist at UNC Hospitals and lives in Hillsborough, N.C.

When I was young, on June nights,
trees began to light up. The males'
yellow lanterns blinked as they launched
from leaves. In the grass below, females glowed jade.
We caught them in jars, watched them wink.

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Red Handled Knife
   by Barbara Brooks
Barbara Brooks

Barbara Brooks, a poet for 15 years, has had her poems published in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Charlotte Poetry Review, The River's Edge and Kerf among others. Her chapbook, "The Catbird Sang" has been published by Finishing Line Press. Many of her poems are based on the observations of nature. She is a physical therapist at UNC Hospitals and lives in Hillsborough, N.C.

Longer than I have know most of my friends,
I have had that knife. Bought it in Paris.
Small, plastic handle same length as the blade.
We were going to have a wine and cheese party
in the room. Be cosmopolitan.

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Keep
   by John Lee Clark
John Lee Clark

John Lee Clark was born deaf and became blind in adolescence. His poetry has appeared in many publications, including The Hollins Critic, Pif, Poetry, and The Seneca Review. His chapbook of poems is Suddenly Slow (Handtype Press, 2008) and he edited the anthology Deaf American Poetry (Gallaudet University Press, 2009). He is married to the deaf cartoonist Adrean Clark; they run a small press called Clerc Scar that publishes signing community literature. They live in Minnesota with their three sons.

The two coats I have belonged to two men
who died shaking. One was my uncle
who wore his coat leaning over pumpkin pies
as he brought them in from the rain.

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Weeding at the Frogtown Community Garden
   by John Lee Clark
John Lee Clark

John Lee Clark was born deaf and became blind in adolescence. His poetry has appeared in many publications, including The Hollins Critic, Pif, Poetry, and The Seneca Review. His chapbook of poems is Suddenly Slow (Handtype Press, 2008) and he edited the anthology Deaf American Poetry (Gallaudet University Press, 2009). He is married to the deaf cartoonist Adrean Clark; they run a small press called Clerc Scar that publishes signing community literature. They live in Minnesota with their three sons.

What I'm interested in is underneath,

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Palomino
   by John Grey
John Grey

John Grey has been published recently in the Georgetown Review, The Pinch, South Carolina Review, The Pedestal, Talking River, and Karamu, with work upcoming in Prism International and the Evansville Review.

Where is her palomino, the shiny golden coat,
that flashing white tail?
What about the eyes so huge,
her whole reflection floated?
And the bent head, nuzzling her hand,
licking love into the rippling palm?

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Works List

Useful Links

To find information about Amarillo Bay authors, other literary magazines, and Web sites that might be interesting, see our Useful Links page.

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Works by Issue

Works are published the first Monday of February, the third Monday of May, the first Monday of August, and the first Monday of November.

2011, Volume 13 Number 4, 7 November 2011 — Future Issue
Number 3, 1 August 2011 — Future Issue

Number 2, 16 May 2011 — Current Issue
Number 1, 7 February 2011
2010, Volume 12 Number 4, 1 November 2010
Number 3, 2 August 2010
Number 2, 17 May 2010
Number 1, 1 February 2010
2009, Volume 11 Number 4, 2 November 2009
Number 3, 3 August 2009
Number 2, 18 May 2009
Number 1, 2 February 2009
2008, Volume 10 Number 4, 3 November 2008
Number 4, 18 August 2008
Number 2, 19 May 2008
Number 1, 11 February 2008
2007, Volume 9 Number 4, 12 November 2007
Number 3, 6 August 2007
Number 2, 7 May 2007
Number 1, 5 February 2007
2006, Volume 8 Number 4, 6 November 2006
Number 3, 7 August 2006
Number 2, 8 May 2006
Number 1, 6 February 2006
2005, Volume 7 Number 4, 7 November 2005
Number 3, 8 August 2005
Number 2, 2 May 2005
Number 1, 7 February 2005
2004, Volume 6 Number 4, 1 October 2004
Number 3, 2 August 2004
Number 2, 3 May 2004
Number 1, 2 February 2004
2003, Volume 5 Number 4, 3 November 2003
Number 3, 4 August 2003
Number 2, 5 April 2003
Number 1, 3 February 2003
2002, Volume 4 Number 4, 4 November 2002
Number 3, 5 August, 2002
Number 2, 6 May 2002
Number 1, 4 February 2002
2001, Volume 3 Number 4, 5 November 2001
Number 3, 6 August 2001
Number 2, 7 May 2001
Number 1, 5 February 2001
2000, Volume 2 Number 4, 6 November 2000
Number 3, 7 August 2000
Number 2, 1 May 2000
Number 1, 7 February 2000
1999, Volume 1 Number 3, 1 November 1999
Number 2, 2 August 1999
Number 1, 3 May 1999