Chris Bullard Tyranny It was only when the Prince appeared as “missing” on our milk cartons that we were aware that we had a ruler. Chris Bullard is generally unknown.
Read MorePoems
Chris Bullard: “Measure”
Chris Bullard Measure To find out how deep the mineshaft was I threw a canary into it and counted the seconds until it hit. Chris Bullard is generally unknown.
Read MoreCharles Thielman: “On the Street”
Charles Thielman On the Street Long past midnight, downtown intersections cross-hatched by the fins of urban piranha, the dark boas of avenues soon releasing gray dawn. Born and raised in Charleston, S.C., moved to Chicago, educated at red-bricked universities and on city streets, Charles Thielman was married on a Kauai beach and is now a […]
Read MoreRodd Whelpley: Untitled
Rodd Whelpley If I were younger, looking good and on the make, and you were you, but desperate, I’m sure that we would train wreck something lovely. Rodd Whelpley is a writer in Illinois whose hobbies include sad displays of his egregious misuse of the tanka form.
Read MoreMichael Prihoda: “not far”
Michael Prihoda Not far Not far now: will you go with me where nothing wastes itself on death? Michael Prihoda is a currently living poet.
Read MoreMichael Prihoda: “with”
Michael Prihoda with I spot the shipwreck in your fingernail and know love is not about dying for someone but being willing to die with someone. Michael Prihoda is a currently living poet.
Read MoreAndy Fogle: Untitled (iii)
Andy Fogle In late winter, the best-worn path is slickest. Andy Fogle is a Virginian living in upstate New York, a poet studying education, anda musician teaching high school English.
Read MoreAndy Fogle: “Fuji, Glebe Road”
Andy Fogle Fuji, Glebe Road There is art and there is eat, practicality and ceremony, Jeff and I at the bar watching the itamae up close hack octopus. In late winter, the best-worn path is slickest. Andy Fogle is a Virginian living in upstate New York, a poet studying education, and a musician teaching high school English.
Read More