Poetry
… great fuddled head of the sky, And all recollections are false, and all you suffer Is only the punishment thought … refract, sand-grain in sun-glare, glory of that light to come. You are you, all will be clear; So sleep, my dear. … in some colding last lurking-place, And standing there studied that strange face Which had endured thunder and even …
Fiction
… had fallen asleep. That night, however, Jana did not come home at all. It was as if she sensed that Charlie had … shorter than Charlie, but had always been bigger, sturdier. Jimmy was once a man with big shoulders, a barrel … “Would you look up at all these goddamn stars,” he said. “Points as sharp as daggers, I bet.” “Actually, they’re giant …
Fiction
… had the chance. Some people call us bums, some call us beachcombers, some people don’t call us anything: they just look, … the painting, the better the scavenging for unusual materials. That morning we started off in the usual spirit, … I know we passed fishermen drawing in their seines, brown bodies with thick back muscles straining in the sun as they …
Poetry
… of Patti LaBelle sung in the broken-bottle falsetto Of an uncle laid out on the bottom step Of summer, … a Newport to knock, light, Lift, lustrous and otherwise, Malcom X Marking X where it is he loved the poor— Everywhere, …
Criticism
… University, I overcame an ambition for graduate studies in philosophy and ended up working as a security guard … overnight free-form time slot. Needless to say, it was non-commercial and frequently included music that was not radio … of the 1960s, the women’s movement, and anti-war journals. Streitmatter also discusses gay and lesbian …
Fiction
… never to return— never to return to Bellefleur Manor—was also the day of Germaine’s first birthday. But was there any … home; she had not even thought of them for months. Please come to help us celebrate the first birthday of our darling … brown markings, and watched over Germaine and Little Goldie as they rode squealing with delight around the weedy …