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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Poem
What Friends Say
Pete Simonelli
Jason moved across the floor on his hands and knees,
I see him this way constantly, in that scooting motion,
making his way to the records lined against the other wall.
Dawn is lighting up outside. He says,
“You have...
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