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Poetry: Light Makes Motion
Naked boy makes light like mosquito, like key drunk and the door. I name a ghost for him. I don’t care – all boys end. Light goes, popped story like wanting any him pushed, sucked flat mosquito, to...
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Poetry: The Coming of Light
Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air....
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Poetry: Untitled
Bedridden, I ate nothing for days. Gradually came paper-thin noodles boiled in lemon water, salt-less crackers they called saltines and half cups of chamomile. Unable to escape I assumed nothing...
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Quotidian: Erin Morgenstern on Storytelling
rt Carried Away “Someone needs to tell those tales. When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of...
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Woman Walking by the Seashore
rt Oleg Oprisco By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept
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