The literary magazine of Hagerstown Community College
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, San Pedro River Review, and other publications.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, San Pedro River Review, and other publications.
This is one of three photos we accepted from Fabrice – all perfect for this time of year, as more and more flowers bloom in the early onslaught of warm weather. Enjoy.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, San Pedro River Review, and other publications.
The boy looked at his hands.
Something had changed.
Now he saw two useless wrinkly palms
speckled with spots he once had spied
upon the leathery flesh of an ancestor.
Child still, he caught the shine of a wheel
attempting to roll forward
upon a sterile floor of bland linoleum,
inhaling a perfume now too familiar:
like ether, chlorine, and formaldehyde.
Teenager, he noticed his chest heaving,
a throbbing near the surface of a blueish river.
In awe at the sight of a life that refuses to give up.
Thoughts slowed to ponder the moment.
Seconds seemed like hours in this padded box.
Young hunter, he could still feel those legs
resembling a mummy’s shrunken flesh,
swimming within the sweet memories
of a chase against the hare, determined to survive,
and the sweet taste of the gamy flesh upon his heart.
Unable to lift those arms, once so potent,
the green of his eyes fades into a gauze,
letting the old soul drift into slumber at last.
Newborn blinded by the lights of another sun, he continues to write his own intimate history.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, San Pedro River Review, and other publications.
Afraid to look back, hiding the secrets of her intimacy,
he can only shed light on the truths revealed to all.
Shy to the present, she reveals all to eternity.
Her vulnerable past shelters her in false security.
She fears little, gliding in the heights of the stratosphere.
Her coyness may be the only armor she requires,
surrounded by the icy embrace of darkest depths,
her dreams of a star she keeps a secret.
A gentle glow vibrates at the center of her gravity,
the pulse growing to unimaginable breadth.
She may conquer the neighboring galaxies
as she escapes from the dangers below.
Her future will be safe as she continues to ascend,
faithful to the distant moon, worshipped by the sun.
I will follow her luminous shadow at a distance
to protect the passion, sole source of her being.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, San Pedro River Review, and other publications.
This poem of Fabrice’s details an endearing, introspective moment, which is a focal point, it seems, of all three works we’ve chosen to share from him.
After Fabrice’s pieces, we will be doing one last comb-through for any remaining pieces in our inbox, so if you are awaiting a decision on something, it’s likely you’ll hear about it soon. Also, keep an eye out for an announcement on our print issue going live, which should be coming soon.
Without further ado, “She Dreams.” Enjoy.
Little hands on the firm knees of enduring love,
she pauses her spirit on the promise of the new dawn.
Looking in the distance, the ruby lips smile again,
sighting a friend chasing the ball in the mist.
There will be no school for her, free she is yet,
her cheek warm against the cozy lap of a mother.
Soon she will join in the plays of another every day,
but for now, she listens to the hearty pulse beneath her ear.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, San Pedro River Review, and other publications.