Americana Stories is a weekly feature of poetry and prose that examines and re-envisions American culture. 

To view previous Americana Stories, visit our archives.

Poetry

Two Poems by Marcia L. Hurlow

MAKING PHONE CALLS FOR MONTGOMERY WARD

         –Mt. Vernon, Ohio, 1972

“We have a lot of specials today,
Mrs. ___.  Several bedsheet sets, all
sizes one price; they never need to be
ironed,” and I note the page in catalogues
housewives must keep by the phone, as I
sit alone in my cubical that summer.

Read Marcia’s work here.

Poetry

Suppers at The Sampler Inn, Ocean Grove, by Susanna Rich

The cafeteria queue is a long necklace of heads
wending down its creaky porch,
down the slate block, around the corner—
hundreds of us de-sanded in outdoor showers,
wet hair slicked or rubber banded,
straps misaligned over bathing suit marks,
and Hawaiian maomaos, madras plaid jackets,
canes, tight blue-tinted perms.

Read Susanna’s work here.

Poetry

Embedded, by Pamela Annas

Gaia prowls the supermarket aisles.
A hijab frames her face.  She is all of us
in jeans and flip flops, a baseball cap, a sari,
a dark blue business suit and red shoes.
Her heels click on the linoleum.

Read Pamela’s work here.

Poetry

Bread, by Laurie Kuntz

How many grandmothers in the regions of memory baked bread,
their hands wrinkled white, made soft by the fine sift of flour,
their aprons smelling of leavened dough and their bosoms warm
with the rise of all that keeps a family from hunger.

Read Laurie’s work here.

Poetry

I Still Think of Edward Hopper From The Mornings At The Beach,
by Sher Ting

Read—and listen—to Sher’s work here.

Poetry

rockaway beach, by Meera Rothman

the morning we finally go to rockaway beach
we will swim with the ghosts of our fathers

you first
diving headlong into the blue
fearless, like dad
like you were birthed here too
your shoulders plowing through the waves
freckled and sunkissed, dad’s grin
on your teeth, the same green eyes.

Read—and listen—to Meera’s work here.

Poetry

My Nevada, by Michael DuBon

Read—and listen—to Michael’s work here.

Poetry

American Gothic by Talia Pinzari

He’s your midwestern father, a handyman 
with a head bald as the knee he took 
to spread mulch this morning 
and a sweat-beaded neck stiffened 
by sternness over your proposed plans 
to stay at a coed sleepover in perfect 
summer, upholding a 3-pronged argument 

Read—and listen—to Talia’s work here.