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Gettysburg Review
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“Sextet”

by Christine Benvenuto

They created their own, fretting endlessly—indeed, they luxuriated in fretting—that the next golden pear might fail to drop into their soft, manicured hands (it never failed). Beyond the limitless supply of wealth, health, and good fortune, the delicious and unwarranted worries, what amused and mildly irritated Leila in the grown–up fairy tales (sometimes called romantic comedies) that she had read was what baffled her most about Carter and Britta and Lars and Mia: the coincidences that kept the two couples in lockstep and together.


“Antimatter”

by Roger Williams

In time your home will be the umpteenth layer
of sediment, like a foundation in Jerusalem.
Your line will graft with multisyllabics,
and your first name will seem as droll as Ezekial.


“Cary Grant”

by James Harms

The last time I saw Cary Grant, he was tearing apart bread
at the marina, a cloud of gulls around him. He let me
try on his glasses, those heavy black specs he wore
toward the end, and I bought a pair just like them,
though I didn’t look like Cary Grant, so I went back to not trying.


“Love Traffic”

by Dimiter Kenarov

All night trucks unzip
the fly of the highway,
then hastily

zip it up. . . .

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