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...

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 ...

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 ...

Timber

Here's a gem that just resurfaced, a video of the complete performance by Timber live at Brownies, NYC, June 1, 1995. https://youtu.be/mRPQfvsUuq4 0:00 Let It Down 5:10 Jam/Belay That 10:47 Anti-Mother-In-Law Ca...

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 ...

The Editors

Here's the complete list of all the pieces from our 13th issue, along with the back cover, a collage of mugshots from the collection of Mark Michaelson, submitted for your perusal. If you'd like to support us, please purchas...

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...

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, ...

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...