Murphy Writing of Stockton University Presents This entry is part of Getaway Reads, an e-mail series that features the writing of the Winter Poetry & Prose Getaway faculty. . The First Thanksgiving by Joe Costal You call him Uncle Bobby. The whole family calls him Uncle Bobby, but he‘s a second-cousin. On your father’s side. Uncle Bobby has Dracula hair, 70s Dracula, high and poofy in the middle, but peaked and gray-streaked up front. He loves old country music and older rock ‘n’ roll. He is a United States veteran. ... Read More...
Getaway Reads 2020: Two poems by Denise Duhamel
Murphy Writing of Stockton University Presents This entry is part of Getaway Reads, an e-mail series that features the writing of the Winter Poetry & Prose Getaway faculty. . Kinky by Denise Duhamel They decide to exchange heads. Barbie squeezes the small opening under her chin over Ken's bulging neck socket. His wide jaw line jostles atop his girlfriend's body, loosely, like one of those novelty dogs destined to gaze from the back windows of cars. The two dolls chase each other around the orange Country Camper unsure what they'll do ... Read More...
Getaway Reads 2020: A personal essay by Judith Lindbergh
Murphy Writing of Stockton University Presents This entry is part of Getaway Reads, an e-mail series that features the writing of the Winter Poetry & Prose Getaway faculty. . Food Confessions of a Former Dancer by Judith Lindbergh Food and I don’t have a great relationship—probably because I was a dancer. It was years ago, and you likely wouldn’t guess it, judging from my slowly settling, middle-aged form. But I was. A serious dancer, performing professionally for seven years, which inevitably meant I was also anorexic. Starting somewhere in ... Read More...
Getaway Reads 2020: A personal essay by Lisa Romeo
Murphy Writing of Stockton University Presents This entry is part of Getaway Reads, an e-mail series that features the writing of the Winter Poetry & Prose Getaway faculty. . Upstairs Love by Lisa Romeo When I was a small girl in the 1960s living in the leafy New Jersey suburb of Cedar Grove, I spent a chunk of every Sunday afternoon visiting my beloved Noni, my mother’s mother, at the Paterson apartment she shared with spinstered Aunt Mary. Theirs was a $40 a month fourth-floor two-bedroom walk-up with linoleum floors, concrete yard, and ... Read More...
Getaway Reads 2020: A personal essay by Anndee Hochman
Murphy Writing of Stockton University Presents This entry is part of Getaway Reads, an e-mail series that features the writing of the Winter Poetry & Prose Getaway faculty. . On Yom Kippur, I think of my grandmother and the sweaters I didn't love enough by Anndee Hochman My Bubbie, my mother's mother, was always chasing me with a flexible yellow tapeline in her hand. “Shayna punim. Shayna maidele.” Beautiful face, she said, even if I’d dabbed the wrong shade of cover-up over a huge, pubescent zit. Beautiful girl, even in ... Read More...