The God of Today, part 1
We are in the far country,
green pastures and a scatter
of stars. Morning!
The water clobbered with light
is filled with a wild emptiness: no spoons,
steering wheels or stones. My daughter, Sunday
school, a white frame church tucked
among the Douglas firs—blurred bluffs of a hundred
bays along the misty horizon.
The God of Today
is a glacier and it is a late time
to be living. Ask the sea rock, ask
the salt mountain, foothills and farms, sounds
of hooves, smell of sagebrush—another year of exposure, of rain—let us gather
the cattle before moon-
Amanda Sharon often thinks about the cylindrical nature of time, the illusion of fear, and ancient cultures. She currently lives in Columbus and studies at The Ohio State University.
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The Doctor T. J. Eckleburg Review is a print and digital literary journal. We offer original fiction — short stories, short short stories, hybrid—poetry and nonfiction. We also curate The Eckleburg Gallery — visual artwork and intermedia — as well The Groove including first released, original music by The Size Queens. Our archives include emerging and established writers, poets, artists, musicians and performers such as Rick Moody, Cris Mazza, Eurydice, Steve Almond, Stephen Dixon, Moira Egan, David Wagoner, Zach Galifianakis and many more. We run annual print issues, The Eckleburg Reading Series (DC, Baltimore, Chicago, New York….), as well as, the annual Gertrude Stein Award in Fiction with a first prize of $1000 and print publication.