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The Amon Liner Poetry Prize Poem WE ARE ALL STARVED FOR TOUCH

On West Richardson Street,
kids threw rocks at the pavement
until they chipped, then threw the shards
at each other. Their momma called
them in for dinner, named the dish…

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HOW THE OCEAN HATED TAMPA TOM

Christopher Stetson Wilson

Everyone hated Tampa Tom. His friends hated him and his enemies hated him. His parents hated him and never called. His wife and his kids hated him and moved to the other side of town. His neighbors definitely hated him and hated his lousy lawn. They made fun of his old car and called him poor. His dog, too, hated him, and ran away frequently…

GHOST RANCH

Colleen Kearney Rich

The moment we drove over the cattle guard, a beat-up truck materialized out of road dust and pulled in front of us. The wizened rancher-type driving it didn’t need to say anything. In fact, he didn’t get out of the truck. We practically glowed in that New Mexican dusk…

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—Robert Watson

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