Fiction

Poetry

Thunder Polka

The thunder polka of a new romance Began today on my left foot, the one Believed to lead suggestiveness astray. True love’s a waltz: it’s

Poetry

Lascaux is Burning

The first art Was not art, Rather, a color line shot through the dark, No more expression Than a plea for explanation. The grandest monuments

Poetry

Where’s Nana?

She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of

Poetry

Ca’Venezia: Your Voice

  Your voice alights on my armhair, a whiff of cigar smoke— caramel, and ghostly— “Cities die; let them.” Black thing to say. I patter

Short Story

A Beggar’s Opera House

  She was suspicious that everyone in the room was melting. The man sitting at the coffee table directly in her line of sight was

Poetry

Godland: Sammie Jo

Sammie Jo don’t talk much. Her mother like to cut out her tongue any time she speaks up. A bone outta socket. As big as