Today a joke sits heavy on my shoulders, The room running wild with laughter. The punchline? The sound of my voice Or, rather, a cheap imitation– What they think we sound like. Laughter scrapes my skin like Too-tight wool in the summer heat. It’s said that it’s a hell ofContinue Reading
Almost everybody in Appalachia has a home canning story. Whether it’s that jar of pickles that just didn’t keep its crunch, or the homemade apple butter with that heavenly taste, or the month canning went awry when several jars burst, and so forth. And I’d go even further to sayContinue Reading
Down in the gopher’s meadow, The black water meets a bank of bright green— Littered with charcoal colored slate, shifted into a home for the little truth teller. An archway of vine spills over the rocks As purple flowers bloom against the august air. The walnut trees giggle from acrossContinue Reading
Appalachia Bare is proud to present a new music video titled “East Kentucky Morning” by Julian Wolf. Produced by Berea, Kentucky native Camryn Shaffer and Living Sound Delusions Studios, we hope you enjoy its warm tones and beautiful visuals as much as we did. “East Kentucky Morning” carries a timelessContinue Reading
Earlier this year, Appalachia Bare took a trip to the Alcatraz East Crime Museum in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. If any of our readers are true crime aficionados, this visit would be worth your while. The museum’s architectural structure is built similar to one of the buildings on Alcatraz Island, andContinue Reading
I love you Grandma. I love you Grandpa. I love your hands, Leathered brown from Years of plowing. I love your palms, Calloused from years of Weeding and canning. I love the syrup Before milkin’ time When the stars are still out, And I love you waiting now, With hoeContinue Reading
The following tale can be found in Ivy Love Brown’s short story anthology, Mr. Lotman. This particular story was originally published by Appalachia Bare in 2019. With the author’s permission, we are revisiting the story and adding her warm tribute to the person who inspired the tale. Please enjoy .Continue Reading
Introduction I was born and raised in Clendenin, West Virginia, a small town in Appalachia. When I was fourteen, my mom piled me and my sisters into a brand-new blue Chevrolet Impala convertible and we headed west to California, then to Miami, and finally back to West Virginia for aContinue Reading
“There’s been another school shooting,” announced Mrs. Anderson. She was sipping coffee from a chipped mug and reading the news on her phone. “It happened at Goode High just yesterday.” She looked expectantly at Tom, waiting for him to react to what she just said. Tom was Mrs. Anderson’s son,Continue Reading
when i was a child i would spend South Texas evenings throwing myself with reckless abandon into the gnarled branches of a waiting magnolia. above the pecan falls and beyond the waiting call of my mother’s dinner bell. all to sit for a moment with those sweet flowers in theContinue Reading