. . . Unlike most of the locals around Bitburg, who upon hearing my Tennessee-accented mangling of their native tongue, would grimace and immediately switch to English, Dieter and Brigeta were willing to endure my twangy Deutsch.
I was determined to exceed the typical U.S. citizen’s . . . Continue Reading
Albritton’s poems take no prisoners. They’re raw, sensate, fierce—unapologetically so. She ferrets out the shadowy interstices lurking in . . . Continue Reading
“Really Loud and Partially Deaf” dedicated to my Husband, Army Veteran Mark Batton My wife brings up a basket of laundry. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. I know she despises folding laundry. It’s a load of towels. I grab one. Warm and fresh-smelling. I fold it inContinue Reading