by Gil Hoy On those windswept weekday mornings, asphalt driveway crusted with snow, my father would get up early, put on his secondhand boots and an old coat, and exit through our front door into the blue hour to get the motor running. That fifteen-year-old station wagon would stall if…
by Eva-Maria Sher Come Sleep Let’s ride Your dream-sheep Let’s glide Knee-deep Into tiramisu. I swim and lap in Lovely goo You wrap yourself In midnight blue. Come Sleep Come, keep me Company, you Fickle bumblebee You tease! Come soon I’ll bring you wings While Moon On silver strings Weaves…
by Gil Hoy I never appropriately Thanked you, Mr. Blue Man. I was just a dumb kid and didn’t know any better. I was moving, one day after turning eighteen. Signed up one of those cheap orange, black and White Rent–a–trucks, only Twelve bucks a day. My high school friends…