Amy Barone

Passion Sunday Furtively, I watch him wipe blood from tracks on his arm before I leave for Palm Sunday Mass. He swore he didn’t — only pot, which he grows in a closet. Still. Leaving wasn’t going to be easy....

Eve Packer

trump defeats kanye reads the newspaper headline a cartoon kanye holds up on the cover of the sept 14th newyorker, and tho i am a huge b blitt fan, it makes me mad, no hint of 9/11 and why wld you gift the donald ...

Anton Yakovlev

1 An old man walked his black dog past a courthouse on his way toward some memory indicator. A faint bouquet barely hidden under his coat, he watched the world with anniversary eyes. They passed a dry steering wheel...

Sue Rynski

My work is about rock and roll, specifically the rock and roll environment(s) I live in, the subculture. In 1977, just after art school, I fell into the art-and-punk Detroit scene with my friends Destroy All Monsters (the ro...

Marc Olmsted

I. Oakland waiting for the quake American poverty's blanket dirty unwashed a shroud on the street abandoned by wandering drug thirst, while the sane sweep in front of their tents (a new day John will watch it for her ...

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

The World Is A Beautiful Place - Lawrence Ferlinghetti The world is a beautiful place to be born into if you don't mind happiness not always being so very much fun if you don't mind a touch of hell now and then jus...

Puma Perl

I had to shit on someone to make this money! shrieked Lani, I need you to get me off! Now! Lani had translucent skin and tiny, spidery veins. Usually, I could find a place to hit her but she’d done some serious damage o...

Julius Klein

(Bus routes, train routes, walking patterns and thinking jags) Riding the #22 Clark Street bus north on a fall evening in Chicago, 1978, getting off at the Armitage stop, descending the few stairs to the oval expanse of p...

steve dalachinsky

foundation 1 (morandi) who will preserve space / the fullness of emptiness – valid question? the flame of the shell / a warning of roses a kind of soupy meld within the intentional near unseen warp...

Jack Kerouac

October in the Railroad Earth is a long, flowing prose poem recounting Jack Kerouac’s memories of his experiences as a “student brakeman” on the Southern Pacific Railroad in California. In his interview with Paris Revi...