Since I moved away to a bigger city, I seldom come back home. Only for holidays and the anniversaries of a few people’s deaths.
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Mr. Z opened the door to a preacher of the One Truth: the man in a hat looked around the room.
There were two beds in Little’s room. Put back to back they were as long as his father was tall. The walls were covered in a light floral print.
the queen wasp / opens her first pair of arms. / she convulses in the right chamber like / how nails sanctify a board.
Death was passing through the pores of waiting / like fresh messages from the sky
I recall the prickly pear shrub that never failed to pierce me as I tucked my skinny body behind it, trying to hide…
I am told I was a happy, mischievous kid who smeared peanut butter on walls. Insatiably curious, I would sit down next to strangers on buses and start up conversations. I have heard that I liked to make people laugh. I don’t remember any of this.
This year, we’d like to specially feature our amazing friends at Brilliant Books, who style themselves “your local, long distance bookstore.” Though they feature a brick-and-mortar store in Traverse City, Michigan, Brilliant Books distinguish themselves as being one of the largest independent online book retailers in the country, and a crucial example of success in […]
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GNOMIC SAVIORS: EDITORS ON EDITING What happens to lit mags in a recession? moderated by Okla Elliott responses by Jacob Knabb, Ben George, Aaron Burch, Raymond Hammond, Anne McPeak, and Jodee Stanley Okla Elliott: Everyone is talking about the current economic situation in the US. How is this affecting literary journals, and what are the […]