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by J.W. Heacock

Devil's teeth,

angels weep;

you have to like

the afterlife.


Free will's a joke,

there is no hope.

Predestination? Nope.

Mere holy masturbation.


But if I play my cards just right

and hedge my bet with Pascal's wager,

I'll reunite with the ones I love

even if I didn't love my neighbor.

J.W. Heacock just completed his Masters in English at Belmont University with a thesis entitled “Life, Death, and Other Quantum Entanglements.” A combat veteran with two tours in Iraq, he recently ended a twenty-year legal career to focus on writing. He received the Belmont English Department Graduate Writing Award for 2014-15, was a finalist for the Iowa Review 2016 Jeff Sharlet Memorial Award for his story “December Sand,” and has been a finalist for the Big Bend National Park Artist-in-Residence in 2016 and the Gettysburg National Military Park Artist-in-Residence for 2017 and 2018.


February 2018

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