Dialogue What are +++++++my pronouns I have felt genderless for years to be respected in your field is to be +++++++without personal name precluded I would say they are +++++++I am and would not mess with the third person at... Continue Reading →
Inspiration Buffet: This week our buffet features two poems by Curtis Whitecarroll and a few photos by Katrin Baustmann. The Vulture by Curtis Whitecarroll Holding my stitches together well enough to write another poem I have made a mirror on... Continue Reading →
The Setting of Type Knuckles reshaped by letterpress, fingerprints erased by hot metal slugs, inked hands rough and calloused by linotype setting elegant sentences composed by others, under the dim forty watt bulb in the bathroom he mixed water with... Continue Reading →
Limping through Shangri-La My unicorn threw a shoe and sent me sailing headlong through a gentle mist of sun rays and birdsong until I slammed against the stony edge of a lovely double rainbow, colorful as the butterfly I crushed... Continue Reading →
Thanksgiving Even when we only worked part-time jobs fixed the thermostat at zero dried our wash on a line out the window we still saved spare change for a turkey scrounged potatoes and onion from Key Food poured two buck... Continue Reading →
Honeysweat Twisting in damp sheets, we seek one cool place. Southern air still as death smothers sleep. Heat lightning bursts behind pine trees. Fireflies’ faint flashes signal summer. Years before conditioned air Daddy builds a fan. Sweet relief, drawn across... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 