by Do South | Sep 30, 2017 | Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] Landry Hale came from Lubbock, from High Plains country, where the sunsets looked so perfect they could be mirages. “The dust in the air does it,” he said, on that first night I met him at the county fair....
by Do South | Sep 1, 2017 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] Glen Campbell showed up at the foot of my bed three nights after he died. He said, real gentle like, “Mary Alice, you’re from Phoenix, aren’t you?” I sat up, a shockwave running through me. I blinked twice,...
by Do South | Sep 1, 2017 | Issues
by Do South | Aug 1, 2017 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] The rain that morning made everything worse. Afterward, steam rose from the road that whipped by my house, from the gravel that made up my driveway, from the metal roof on my garden shed. “Global...
by Do South | Jul 1, 2017 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] Julie feels it, the pulsing heat that rises above the blacktop road, shimmers through the leaves of the maple tree in her front yard. She holds onto the feeling even as the day ends, as the sun droops and...
