Hybrid

  • Hybrid,  Issue 37

    Day at the Zoo

    by Daniel Webre

    On another day at the zoo, not this one, I had the place almost to myself. I even had my own private animal show. On this day, however, things were different. I was hurrying along until I got to the foxes. There was a red fox with a white coat who intrigued me. She was there as before, but on this day I left the fox enclosure to investigate an unfamiliar noise. The caged-in area next door looked similar to the one I’d just left. It took a moment of scanning the interior before I could locate the source of the noise.

  • Hybrid,  Issue 37

    The Green Man of Akron

    photo by KJ Hannah Greenberg

    by Joseph Phelan

    We emerged from the lobby’s glacial climate, man and dog, to stroll along the offramp knolls—
    heeding nature’s call. Addled thoughts dissolved into purpling dusk and twenty-one hindleg salutes. Crossing the soft green berm into a maze of silent side streets, we’re drawn like moths toward truculent lighting.

    Nearly the last night of spring, Ohio air, floral and mossy, alive with possibility and rhyming with the wag of a loping white tail, we follow that persistent snout—confident in its quest for goose droppings in the dark.

  • Hybrid,  Issue 37

    Historical Homes of Currituck County

    by Jessica Payne

    drawing by Charles Henry Alston, 1935–43

    We were discussing countertops when our son began to seize in the backseat. I mistook it for something innocent. He was sleeping…dreaming, perhaps. A small twitch of his left leg, like riding a bicycle. “What is he doing” I said. The car became dark as we drove beneath the overpass, when we exited the other side, he was thrashing. You climbed over the console; you repeated his name. I was confused if I should pull over, as if steering the car put us further from the issue at hand.

  • Hybrid,  Issue 37

    The Elsewhere Oracle

    by Michele Battiste

    see TOC for art attributions
    Green like beginning (leaf primordium)
    Green like promise (tangle of snakes)
    Green like amulet (scarab’s carapace)
    Green like essence (secreted bile)
    Green like riddle (hidden katydid)
    Green like storm (tornado light)
    Green like fortune (emerald vein)
    Green like gamble (debtor’s note)
    Green like toxin (stem of foxglove)
    Green like murk (understory)
    Green like monster (from the shoreline)
    Green like something soon to come

    Oracle
    To be superficial is to lack depth,
  • Hybrid,  Issue 37

    Discarded Sermon 9

    by Benjamin Bellas

    collage by John Bingley Garland, ca. 1850–60

    Shhhhhweet sassle-frassle, the good Lord came to me and said, “The only church you need is a freshly sharpened axe and enough breath to reach the forest’s edge.”

    2 I bring mine hands and dip them in the marrow of god’s glory, god’s great salivating abundance.

    3 I dip mine thighs in spring water, spilled forth from the depths of my mother’s karst body, carried over rock to rock,

  • Hybrid,  Issue 37

    When I reached the rough manner of this rain, the scrunched petals of these flowers, their fraying edges, I stopped and set down language

    by Cory Hutchinson-Reuss

    photo by Jeylan Jones

     


    O, O, O:

    Of ode, incantation, pain, ecstasy, or completion. No paraphrase. The body dissolves on the tongue. Done. The river lapped her up. A kind of conversion. Consummation. A communion or an erasure.

     

    ~

     

    Here, now:

    I try to write about time and I write about my grandmother’s body.