Saharan Criminology

By A. Molotkov,

I’m trying to reach a small city hidden by the sand dunes. Sand, are you one or many? City, are you made of sand? Dusty hut, only one window is open, and on the floor, a smaller dune blown in by the wind. You still breathe, sand on your tongue, your white robes gray from sand. … Continue reading

How to Make a Bomb

By Chad Meadows,

BOMB:

  1. An explosive weapon detonated by impact, proximity to an object, a timing mechanism, or other predetermined means.
  2. A dismal failure or complete fiasco.

One:  July 2nd 2013

“So, do I talk directly into the microphone?”

It was the first thing I remember saying that night, which seemed odd.  The hairs in my nose told me that I was in the basement of a Chinese restaurant or something.  Somebody must have ordered beef and broccoli in an industrial cleaning sauce: It smelled like beef with bleach.   I know most of the restaurants in the area but I wasn’t sure how long I was in that van so pinpointing if this was Fong’s or Chong’s or Mow Wow Wow’s was an impossibility at that point.
… Continue reading

One-Week Dean

By Daniel Aristi,

You hombres’d like to know maybe or, rather, I’d like to tell you of a pale whoreboy by the Texaco, like the last chocolate – he’s long been travelling, he says, the capillaries of the nation.

Leather-Jacket-Right-On-Own-Skin type this fallen, fallen, three times fallen James Dean; jacket’s unzipped, door ajar & straight into his ivory (also, Marlboros for fireplace). … Continue reading

Pure Imagination (Feat. We’ve Only Just Begun) [Remix]

By Gwen Goodkin,

Whenever my daughters and I visit my grandma’s house, my girls want to play with two things: her miniature Dachshund and her giant snow globe. The snow globe is about the same weight and size as a bowling ball. Inside there’s an idyllic scene of a village in England or Ireland or possibly France. There’s a stone bridge and a horse-drawn cart and small thatched-roof homes. Technically it isn’t a snow globe because, instead of snow, there’s glitter.

What my girls like best about the globe isn’t the cozy hamlet inside or the glitter or even the pastel butterfly attached to the outside by a coiled wire. What they like is the wind-up music: … Continue reading

A Month of Summer

By Gwen Goodkin,

“In the life of each of us…there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness.”
-Sarah Orne Jewett, The Country of the Pointed Firs

 

Once, between the stage of life when time moves slowly, like a child’s school day in winter, and the stage when time leapfrogs overhead, I sat atop a grey-and-white dappled horse in the middle of a city neighborhood surrounded by narrow homes with slick-tiled roofs and flower boxes offering blooms in all the colors of joy. The perfume of flowers mixed with that of coffee and the sweet yeast of bread left to cool on a sill. … Continue reading

A Different World

By Tom Hazuka,

Our friends Joyce and Vic are coming over tonight—she said on the phone they have news for us—so Marie and I figure a bottle of champagne can’t hurt. Maybe an adoption came through; maybe years of sex-by-numbers (calendar and thermometer—it’s amazing the personal things people tell you about themselves) have finally come to fruition. Occasionally I mention the possibility of us having a baby; Marie says she isn’t ready, not yet, and though of course I understand I’m beginning to wonder if “not yet” means forever. I certainly haven’t brought it up since the planes hit the World Trade Center six weeks ago.
… Continue reading

Ghost Broccoli

By Tom Hazuka,

I wasn’t a picky eater as a child, so I’m not thrilled when Charlie comes over every other weekend and refuses to eat things I wish he would, like the eggplant parmesan I cooked tonight.  It’s practically lasagna, right?  He loves lasagna.

“I’ll fry you some turkey dogs if you at least try the cauliflower.”

His face twists in melodramatic horror.  The kid could have acted for D.W. Griffith.
… Continue reading

Only in the Eye of the Beholder

By Steve Slavin,

1
My wife and I met years met many years ago at a session of The Forum, which had previously been known as EST. Before you get the wrong idea, all those stories about their not letting new recruits go on bathroom breaks are greatly exaggerated. And let the record show that I can easily hold it in for over eight hours – or even longer, if necessary.

At one of the sessions, we met another couple. In appearance, they could not have been more different. If you saw them on the street, you probably would wonder what he could possibly see in her. … Continue reading

Beauty: Beatitude

By Sandeep Mishra,

Beauty is blessedness, euphoria
When life unveils her holy face;
A soft whisperings, speak in our spirit,
The eternity gazing itself in a mirror,
It glows with pure tints of varying hues; … Continue reading

Gangst

By Daniel Aristi,

If we all put together were declared a constellation we’d be called

The Uzi.

Manhood like Man & Hood.

Here, we sharpen our people               Aquí, afilamos a nuestra gente
So they’re faster in giving                                    Para que sean mas rápidos dando
Others the bad.                                                      A otros el mal.
… Continue reading