Classics
The Joan Anderson Letter
Neal Cassady
In December 1950, Jack Kerouac received the so-called "Joan Anderson letter" from Neal Cassady. Kerouac later said the letter inspired his new writing style in On The Road. Kerouac thought the letter was lost when somebody d...
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Essay
John Farris Readings
John Farris
John Farris - writer, poet, raconteur, curmudgeon, mentor, genius - died last week at his home at the Bullet Space Gallery in NYC's East Village, where he'd lived since 1992. John was a friend to many, and took us young'uns ...
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Book
Violent Outbursts by Thaddeus Rutkowski: Review
Jim Feast
Thaddeus Rutkowski, Violent Outbursts (New York: Spuyten Duyvil, 2015)
A reader of Thaddeus Rutkowski’s new book of short fiction, Violent Outbursts, might be tempted to compare him to a number of writers, though ...
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Art
Jessica Anne Schwartz: Instinctive Formalist
Alan Kaufman
Jessica Anne Schwartz, a purely Left Coast Cali artist, decided, last year, to up and plant herself in the very heart of New York's Chelsea art district where she maintains a large studio filled with her paintings, drawings ...
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Photographs
Mugged By A Movie Star (Miguel Piñero)
B. Kold
I’m ineligible to serve on a jury. Whenever I’m selected for jury duty, I never make it past the first voir dire—the part where the defense and district attorneys interview prospective jurors to ensure they’re not bi...
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Story
GUN NEEDLE SPOON – I’m Starving
Patrick O'Neil
San Francisco, July 21, 1996
In the refrigerator are five cakes: carrot, lemon, raspberry swirl, three-layer chocolate, and some kind of tiramisu, or maybe it’s mocha. I can’t tell. Five large, heavily frosted cakes, ...
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Story
A Bad Day – An Excerpt From Duke And Jill
Ron Kolm
Duke knew it was going to be a bad day, even before he got out of bed. He had a splitting headache, and a lump the size of a nickel bag on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember where he’d been last night—or how he...
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Essay
Meet the Beats: Herbert Huncke
Hilary Halladay
When opportunity literally knocked not long after his return from sea, Herbert was ready for a new diversion. It was 1944, the war would soon end, and change was inevitable, even for an unemployed drug addict for whom change...
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Art
Best of 2015 – Sensitive Skin More Better Favorites
The Editors
This was so much fun last year, I thought we'd do it again. (Two of my favorite books of the year were ones I picked up from last year's list: Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel, recommended by Deborah Pintonelli, and ...
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Story
Narcisa – An Excerpt
Jonathan Shaw
I was seeing double with fatigue. But Narcisa was just getting started.
She hopped along, from subject to subject, like a cocaine-crazed, hyperactive little fairy, flittering between realms of thought I could barely fatho...
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Poem
Holiday
D. James Smith
My Rose of Sharon has gone dormant,
Thin and spindly as
The many masts of sailing ships
Gone to port in winter
That I’ve seen in paintings,
So I’ll be a long time waiting
In the black flowers of my days
For summ...
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Poem
Marine 1–10
Max Blagg
A collaboration between Max Blagg and Alex Katz for the Marine Series’ Exhibition Catalogue, Jablonka Gallery, Berlin, 2008. This piece is an excerpt from the forthcoming book, Slow Dazzle: Poems & Prose For 23 Artists, pu...
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Story
The 9 Lives of Ray the Cat Jones
Stewart Home
I’m a face. My breakout from Pentonville in 1958 has been praised as one of the greatest prison escapes of all time by the likes of south London gangster Mad Frankie Fraser. The details differ somewhat in the various accou...
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Poem
Beaches in Cornwall, Apples in Devon, A Foot in London
Christopher Romero
draped Kelp and no lullaby thick sound from deep wonder ritual unconformed
to sea sutra canters
the silver egg’s path from studio
to rocks
near shore
to ocean soaked tidal pools lady lay day
heat mapped exposure turn...
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Story
Santa Barbara–1980 / San Francisco–1982
Matt McLaren
Santa Barbara–1980
I didn’t have a mattress yet. it had been three months, but I still lay in my room on my dirty clothes, arranged under a fitted sheet. Ron stood in my doorway, leaning against the jamb. He stared at...
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