Ron Kolm

Hand Job It’s my first day on the job In a plant making hand trucks. “You’ll be rubbing acid on new Welds to seal them,” the foreman Tells me. “Here’s some rubber Gloves,” he says, tossing me a pair. ...

Ron Kolm

Hells Kitchen After the war in Vietnam Wound down, and my stint Doing alternative service Came to an end, I had to stop And take stock Of my situation. I could return to Pennsylvania And get a job in a factory D...

Ron Kolm

Classical Music Lover I was sitting behind the cash register In Eastside Bookstore On a warm summer afternoon In June, 1976. The evening junkie group nod Hadn’t started yet, But they would eventually Shuffle in...

Ron Kolm

It’s a cold morning, two weeks before Christmas, and I’m walking across 57th street on my way to work when I noticed him up ahead, shuffling along the curb -- silver hair, blue jacket and white sneakers – not dressed f...

Jim Feast

Ron Kolm’s new collection of short stories, Duke and Jill, recounts the adventures of two woebegone, half countercultural, half drugstore-cowboy lowlifes, who shabbily inhabit the 1980s East Village, always one step ahead ...

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...

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...