Meg Curran
Poem
“The Devil’s Head Banjo in the Staircase”
“Dust, Beer Bellies, and Guns: Watching Shirtless Hog Hunters from the Kitchen Sink”
“The 17 ‘REPENT’ Billboards on the Way Home”
“Shooting Mistletoe Out of Trees and Other Seasonal Traditions”
“Drugs, A Republican Boy Toy, and the Summer We Almost Adopted Our Cousins”
“Trailer Teen Pregnancies”
“Pound Cake, Apple Pie Moonshine, and Other Things We Bartered with Octogenarian Neighbors”
“Stop by the Strip Club Peach Stand on the Way Home, Will You?”
“I Thought Big Boobs Ran in the Family, But They Were Actually Bought with Drug Money”
“Putting the C*nt in Country”
“Bullets in the Bedside Table: Questions I Ask After My Grandmother’s Death”
“Facebook, the Town Crier for Family Mugshots and Obituaries”
“Mema’s Customer Appreciation Plaque from Hardee’s”
“Why My Aunt Lies About Putting Miracle Whip in Chicken Salad”
“Sun-Bleached and Consumed by Kudzu”
“The Caution-Taped Living Room Down the Street”