By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
By Todd Howard Two weeks ago, on Friday, Frankie’s ma made pasta e fagioli. Well, she calls it Pasta Fazool. Frankie told me that’s a Southern Italy Brooklyn thing. It’s soup with white kidney beans, pasta, greens, and some other stuff—like lots of garlic. Anyway, Frankie’s mom is the best…