Bill Yarrow Forgive Me, Leonard Cohen There’s a price on everything and that’s how the dark begins. Bill Yarrow is the author of Blasphemer and other books.
Read More07/22/2015 — 0
Poems
07/20/2015 — 0
Terry Ofner: “Mailbox”
Terry Ofner Mailbox Clare regards the mailbox torn from its post and flung by the storm through the living room window and wonders if the mailman—he is a man—will take the time to maneuver around the downed tree limbs that litter the gravel driveway, step carefully through the broken glass, walk across the sodden Persian carpet, and […]
Read More07/18/2015 — 0
Lindsay Adkins: “In the Big City”
Lindsay Adkins In the Big City Most days all I wish is for errands with my mother, when she would ask if I liked the plaid curtains or the floral curtains best and then buy whichever I picked, and afterward take me to the dentist where my name would be called out to an entire waiting […]
Read More07/16/2015 — 0
Jon Riccio: “Practicality”
Jon Riccio Practicality Zen lesson: if you crave a rock god’s sliver, extract the tour bus first. Jon Riccio’s current occupation is graduate student, having donned a Thin Mint Cookie costume in day-old stubble to pay last month’s rent.
Read More07/15/2015 — 0
Jon Riccio: “Youngstown En Route”
Jon Riccio Youngstown En Route In the rust belt it rains hotels, Ohio an Econo Lodge morass Jon Riccio’s current occupation is graduate student, having donned a Thin Mint Cookie costume in day-old stubble to pay last month’s rent.
Read More07/14/2015 — 0
Jon Riccio: “Shoulder”
Jon Riccio Shoulder The pallbearer learns by muscle memory, your offspring graffiti and kerosene. Jon Riccio’s current occupation is graduate student, having donned a Thin Mint Cookie costume in day-old stubble to pay last month’s rent.
Read More07/13/2015 — 0
C. Wade Bentley: Untitled
C. Wade Bentley From the window of the evening train, I saw a woman stare back at me from a second-story brownstone, and it could not have been clearer that we both wished to trade places, that I would deal with her elderly father who had lost everything else but the words, repeated, wild and […]
Read More07/11/2015 — 0
C. Wade Bentley: “An Exaltation of Lark”
C. Wade Bentley An Exaltation of Lark Well okay one meadowlark on a power line his flash of yellow level with the horizon as I crest a slight hill in the West Desert windows down so that as I pass I catch just half a bar of his pretty-little- song meaning it must be morning […]
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