Howie Good Asleep in Class I have heard it is bad luck to wake up a student who is asleep in class, and so I don’t, even though now he may never know that Picasso dressed like a pauper or that Bulgarians burn old used clothes for heat and fuel or that in years to […]
Read MoreBrett Warren If I’m Lucky the worst thing about dying will be how I won’t be able to write about it what I thought & felt what I saw & smelt the oh fuck! or what the hell…? of it or the last contented breath of it the regret or peace or relief of it […]
Read MoreBrett Warren Mooncake in a Chinese Bakery You came for this round wonder on a paper plate & found windows steamed to invisibility tables & chairs so close you have to go sideways to get the one seat left at a rickety table by the wall the bell on the door an insistent message from […]
Read MoreTara Willoughby Terraforming These days the clouds move faster each time I look at them, and I imagine great great grand nieces sitting under a whirling future sky, giggling at their dusty ancestor and her unrealistic sketches of floating rotund sheep. Sometimes, Tara Willoughby writes poems.
Read MoreMike Dillon Third Grade When I realized the question on the chalkboard was not a question because our teacher already knew the answer I felt something inside me sink one floor. Mike Dillon, who lives northwest of Seattle on Puget Sound, likes brief, cold-water swims and short conversations.
Read MoreMike Dillon And Now I watch my father bent with age step around rather than over a shattered oar left by last night’s tide. Mike Dillon, who lives northwest of Seattle on Puget Sound, likes brief, cold-water swims and short conversations.
Read MoreGeorge Salamon America’s Forgotten Tramps and drifters, boozers and junkies, loafers and losers, born fatherless or born homeless, frightened and despairing, turned down by the world, I recognize you, there must be some of your blood in me. George Salamon was a refugee decades ago, but he can still feel what it was like to […]
Read MoreD.W. Golden Note Nearing midnight and I shouldn’t write again so soon, but there’s a full moon, and the stars, well, the stars speak for themselves, for us. D. W. Golden is still on a singular quest towards attaining the ever elusive state of being in all things as much as possible simply simpler. […]
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