Vincent Zangrillo

Gregory loved Peggy Biderman who lived at the Chelsea Hotel. Peggy, she was probably around 55, even older than Gregory (who was twice as old as me) but younger than I am now. I’m not sure of the relationship the two had i...

Gary Snyder

He had driven half the night From far down San Joaquin Through Mariposa, up the Dangerous Mountain roads, And pulled in at eight a.m. With his big truckload of hay behind the barn. With winch and ropes and hooks We s...

Maria Lisella

Nowhere to Go A paw emerged threatening my conscience Your scent eludes me. A needle punctures a tire A bomb explodes Scoring the walls. Roof Dog, Ave. B, E. 4th & E. 5th St., 1981, photograph by Phili...

Gil Fagiani

MONKEYS ON CRESTON AVENUE The Bronx, 1985 B--short for Beatrice--was the last of the Irish living at 2208 Creston Avenue. When I moved there in ‘75 her older brother was staying with her after a stroke prevented hi...

Dorothy Friedman

As The Insurance Dwindles In this house made of wood mother formulates ancestry cleans the fish and makes the rooms habitable despite the incessant drilling. As the insurance dwindles in each room an ornament rejoices...

Jeffrey Cyphers Wright

Exiguity I never get mad, I get even — written in glitter on the broad back of a fat man’s blue jean jacket. Everything faded except the dust & grease. Grace being a monument not to survival, but to resigna...

Yuko Otomo

Moon Walk Blues I’m not following the moon The moon is following me I just want to go home My hands are closed Half clawed But not fisted For I’m not angry I pace up & down To see the secret of summer I...