Issue Index (continued):

...Feet
            barefoot  97  101
            Billy’s bed, foot of  37
            feet, Andrea’s  164
            feet, attached to arms  159
            feet, little  149
            feet, planting  62
            feet, rising from under tunics  120
            feet, sunk in sand  97
             foot, arch of  156, 159
            foot, as measurement of height 125
            football  167
            foot, crushed  174
            footfalls, 62
            foot, gently moving  191
            foot, in ice  176
            foot problems  12
            footsteps  161
            river flowing at our feet  181
            rusted mailbox, foot of  39
            set foot  34
            shifting from one foot to another  86
            toes, infinitesimal  22
            Tom’s driveway, foot of  33
            tumbling head over feet  148
            underfoot  50, 179, 195...

> Full index

Nothing to see here folks, move right along:

The concentric rings of color emanating from Holton Rower’s image on the cover of our Spring/ Summer 2011 issue are not a vortex that leads to another dimension. You will not find that the work in this issue has the power to transform your psychological proclivities and dispositions, to transport your consciousness to a different plane of existence, to transmogrify your very shape so what you are left with after finishing the issue is nearly unrecognizable to your peers. Everything here is exactly as it seems: nothing has changed, nothing has been lost or gained. We want you to go on about your days, safe in the knowledge that you’ve avoided no Epiphany, taken no risks, lived a life safe from the probable harmful effects of reading unadulterated contemporary literature.

Once you have finished reading Tom Bolt’s “Curtain of Frost” the dreamlike state between reality and fiction will not be blurred. His surreal imagery and poetic leaps will not lead you to seek some deeper meaning in your own equally complex lives and dreams.  Similarly, Domingo Martinez’s memoir, “The Boy Kings of Texas” will not lead you to question the economic disparity that seems to grow with each permanent shift in the weather: you will be content to remain seated on your sofa. You will not be moved. Jack Bradigan Spula’s delight in language and in nature will not hollow out a space inside your mind and take residence there. Dear reader, we urge you not to buy this issue, not to subscribe to Epiphany, for the sake of the status quo.

> Buy this issue or subscribe

Sample this issue:

Featured Fiction
Chris Castle: The Card and the Cabin > Read

Featured Poetry
Jack Bradigan Spula: Salamanders > Read

Featured Nonfiction
Domingo Martinez: The Boy Kings of Texas > Read

New work from:

Owen Andrews • Sallie Bingham • Thomas Bolt • Traci Brimhall • Chris Castle • Cora Currier • Oliver De La Paz • Kristen Fitzpatrick • Sidik Fofana • Kathleen Founds • Tim Gomez • Sarah Gutowski •
Edward Hirsch • Andree Lockwood • Domingo Martinez • Matthew McGevna • Bryan Miller • Airin Miller • Mary Norris • Jacqueline Osherow • Alan Peterson • Susanne Petermann • Rainer Maria Rilke • Philip Schultz • M.R. Sheffield • Jack Bradigan Spula • Sarah Stern

READ, REFLECT, AND
HAVE AN EPIPHANY

Epiphany is published twice a year, in spring and fall. Read the likes of Derek Walcott, Roxana Robinson, John Edgar Wideman, Georges-Olivier Châteaureynaud, and Devjani Huggins and you may see life a little differently.