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Dead Skunk Logo: round logo of a white skunk silhouette on a black background with the words “Dead Skunk” in cursive. “Dead” is neon purple and “Skunk” is neon yellow.

RC deWinter writes in several genres with a focus on poetry. She’s also a digital artist and sometimes chanteuse. Her only claim to fame is a small but devoted Twitter following. Her only soda is bicarbonate of.


RC deWinter’s poetry is widely anthologized, notably in New York City Haiku (NY Times, 2/2017), Now We Heal: An Anthology of Hope (Wellworth Publishing, 12/2020) in print: 2River, Event, Gargoyle Magazine, the minnesota review, Night Picnic Journal, Plainsongs, Prairie Schooner, Southword, The Ogham Stone, Twelve Mile Review, York Literary Review among many others and appears in numerous online literary journals. She is also a winner of the 2021 Connecticut Shakespeare Festival Sonnet Contest, with anthology publication forthcoming.

Dark sky, black clouds in the background. A crooked bare limb across the right side of the sky with a black raven perched near the top.



nerves stretched to breaking i sat in the fading light of an almost rainy day

medicating myself with the blood of fermented corn

but even with a third of the bottle gone i twitched and shivered

in the grip of anxiety so far beyond freefloating it approached tornadic


not knowing what else to do i fled to the wooded field upstreet
thinking the green embrace of nature might calm me

but found only sphagnumed stone and a network of abandoned tunnels

foxes? moles? i couldn’t tell and was way beyond caring

no wildflowers bloomed in the ragged meadow salted with amanita

and by the trunk of a pitch pine i found a patchwork of small bones

scattered in a jigsaw of death then a sudden flurry and i jumped nearly falling

face first into the puzzle of bones as a murder of crows blackened the sky


their feathers swirled down on me like a black cloud from the pit

as i tasted the acrid sweat of their pimpled skin and feeling like a prisoner

in one of poe’s more florid nightmares stumbled back to the road to make

my drunken way home back to the safety of four dead walls and the bottle

Header image by sipiaphoto from Getty Images

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