By Jim Speese Songs were in his head. Constantly. It was a problem and he supposed it wasn’t unique. Given the hegemonic presence of advertising jingles and TV show themes and music pumped into grocery stores and pharmacies and hospitals, it seemed quite likely that the fact that songs constantly…
by Ian Johnson Rosie sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor of her empty living room, unassembled furniture parts strewn around her like small towns at the base of a big mountain. She held an Allen wrench in one hand, the assembly pamphlet in the other. The tip of her tongue…
