- By Edward Clifford
"When Iggy moved now, she shimmered in red, blue, and yellow pixels melding into an overall impression of green. And she was always moving, pacing the cage from end to end. She resisted being picked up, struggling and thrashing her tail. The boy could not help being afriad, but his love only grew along with the iguana as if, like the procession of tanks, it could expand indefinitely to hold them both."
—from “Iguana Iguana,” Summer 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 2)
Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
Well, there was “Lucky the Leprechaun” in second grade, very bad, and then a review for The Altoona Mirror in sixth grade, not much better. I’ve written poems since I was taught to hold a...