by Red Cedar Review | May 4, 2022 | Volume 57
Issue 57 the smell of sweet potatoes b.i.w. I decided to make lunch today pulled out a box of sweet potatoes from the farmer’s market on the first cut, my amygdala shudders— I am 12 again putting orange colored cubes in the oven for the fourth time that week: ...
by RCRproduction | May 3, 2022 | Volume 57
Issue 57 I Want to Kiss Jordyn Damato like I used to kiss when I was 15 and I hope that young age doesn’t turn you off (or turn you on) but if I lied and told you I had my first kiss at 20 or not at all yet you would be even more turned off so here is the truth, I...
by RCRproduction | May 3, 2022 | Volume 57
Issue 57 The Big Crash Marena Benoit Baby, remember when we hiked to the top of that mountain? Your hair was all dirty and flopping around. Your jacket slung around your neck, laughing at the sunset. That was the first time I looked at you. and thought, goddamn,...
by Red Cedar Review | May 3, 2022 | Volume 57
Issue 57 Elegy for 8251 Short Cut Rd Jordyn Damato You, my friend and my enemy, were my first home. You smelled like cigarettes and a wood burning stove— and when I hid under my bed, mothballs. My sisters and I threw noodles on your head, testing to...
by RCRproduction | May 3, 2022 | Volume 57
Issue 57 On Representation Fletcher Kirkwood and time and time again, i go hungry i find myself begging for scraps that never fall from the plate. never have i known a full stomach, only poisoned crumbs left as bait for a desperate mouse who falls for it every...
