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Lithograph

Fingers tap the steering wheel while you croon with Ronnie Milsap. Your adroit thumbs apply sunscreen to the very edge of my squinting eyes. Sun-darkened hands buckle my cumbrous orange vest; hook swiveling leeches that fasten suckers to my palms; show me an improved clinch knot; net my longest Ontario musky. Slick with its iron-rich blood, your hands gut my first November whitetail. And on Sundays you point at the TV, teaching me to malign our hapless Vikings. But with callous hands, you also chisel from me that which will not flake or spin to the floor unforced. Paddle me naked over your knees, a garden of dahlias blossoming with each strike; bend back your Ace pocket comb, and apply its unbreakable guarantee to bath-tender skin still dripping Johnson’s no-tear shampoo. I learn to stand mute. Like bruised alabaster, I absorb the brunt of their centripetal love; pose unflinching as you force me

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Riggwelter #15  

Welcome to the fifteenth issue! Riggwelter keeps rolling on. This issue contains work by: Sudeep Adhikari, Andy Armitage, Ian Badcoe, Bobby...

Riggwelter #15  

Welcome to the fifteenth issue! Riggwelter keeps rolling on. This issue contains work by: Sudeep Adhikari, Andy Armitage, Ian Badcoe, Bobby...

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