Poetry
A Photo Found in Black and White
Coincidence did not cause the young man’s cheek to share the curve of mine in his gray, buttered face. His finger-combed hair wet with grease,
Coincidence did not cause the young man’s cheek to share the curve of mine in his gray, buttered face. His finger-combed hair wet with grease,
I dreamed of the day, In the dead of winter, A dreary day, When I’d step off the train And see you there- The day
Meet me in the mountains Of Oregon (Washington’s been having too many fires). It won’t be hard to find me- Just look for the earthship,
An independent literary magazine for contemporary fiction, thought, and opinion about popular culture, society, and everything on the periphery.
