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...

Ron Kolm

I met you At the Grey Gallery Across from Washington Square Park. We were going to the opening Of The Left Front: Radical Art in the “Red Decade.” We ate all the peanuts And most of the chips That were set out...

Michael Randall

My friends tend to laugh when I bare my soul and slowly nod when I tell a joke These things occur to me only when I’m high and might have no truth whatsoever I’m most honest when purely drunk yet somehow pure be...

Jose Padua

Sometimes I like to imagine that my family and I are a heavy metal band, playing gigs in the southern states, riding in a big tour bus that has skulls painted on the side, and a big decal of the grim reaper wielding hi...

Marc Olmsted

Ocean fog thick in the avenue night white Christmas lights in October Shamrock Arms Bar glowing green & red through clear quartz-glass block front the Dead Sailor Girls will play tomorrow salt taste in air wher...

Jack Micheline

I don’t know what I am seeking In the cool night rivers and birds a sensuous lip a rainbow of dreams past waterfalls the ruins of cities appear and fade in front of me awkward man he dresses and clowns seeking lov...

Emily XYZ

Justin Hott was a retail analyst for Bear Stearns I met at LaGuardia airport one night heading back to Detroit in December 2007, shortly before his company imploded. What is the basis of greed / wanting to be free of ...

J. D. King

(i love the scent of fresh cut grass) the mower is black mostly with bright orange parts illustration by JD King no engine to cut is to hear the whir of the reel and to smell fresh cut gra...

Bonny Finberg

Take the gas mask off. Take a bath. Take the cake. Take the China exit. Hell is out there too, Other people’s concern, Gods’ voices, at it like grownups In the front seat. Photograph from the Wall Str...

John S. Hall

by This Fuckin' Guy (as told to John S. Hall) Owls don’t seem so fucking wise to me. They look like dicks, usually, With their chests all puffed out and shit, Like they’re saying “Fuck me? No--fuck you!” But ...