Susan Melinda Dunlap | The Piltdown Review

Susan Melinda Dunlap

River Salt

River Salt

The river running through my mouth bypassed my heart, the tongue dried up.


Swilling coffee on the roof of a Motel 6, sleepy, thinking of ham and biscuits and another cup.
The Dead Aren’t Quaint

The Dead Aren’t Quaint

I gathered a bottle of roses and wore a rayon red dress and sat in the oldest cemetery I could find.
For Rachel—

For Rachel—

For Rachel Wetzsteon, a poet who left the week I said good-bye to Manhattan, committing suicide just as I drove off.



  • There’s No Place
    a poem by Ken Farrell
  • Piano Concert
    a poem by Bree Devones Hsieh
  • Beringia (Part I)
    a story by Tanyo Ravicz
  • Out of Habit
    a poem by Jonathan Andrew Pérez
  • The Birthing Room
    a story by Lisa W. Rosenberg
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