by Gil Hoy On those windswept weekday mornings, asphalt driveway crusted with snow, my father would get up early, put on his secondhand boots and an old coat, and exit through our front door into the blue hour to get the motor running. That fifteen-year-old station wagon would stall if…
by Gil Hoy Their homes, cone-shaped wooden poles covered with buffalo hides. Set up to break down quickly to move to a safer place. She sits inside of one of them, adorning her dresses, her family’s shirts, with beads and quills. Watches over her children, skins cuts and cooks the…
By James Seals I laugh at the irony as the country music group Little Big Town sings about the boondocks: a phrase that Oxford English Dictionary tells us derives from the Tagalog word bundok which means mountain. Little Big Town sings that they feel no shame they’re proud of where…