by Sarah Toney (This story contains suicide.) The air was thin and icy. Breathing it in felt like swallowing shattered glass. The city was beautiful from this height and the boy wanted to reach out and feel the warmth of the setting sun. The heaviness in his chest felt a…
by Phil Temples, John sat hunched over the ancient “mill” typewriter with uncomfortable headphones covering his ears. His receiving station occupied a corner of a small, underground bunker in a remote section of Landsberg Air Force Base, West Germany. The concrete bunker was designated as the Security Service Signals Post, but most people called it the…
By Josh Medsker I am on stage with Patti Smith. Kasama ko paglalaro ng gitara. I can’t hear what she’s saying, ngunit siya flapping sa paligid ang kanyang mga arm, at ang aking gitara is just throwing out waves of feedback. Ito tran…
by David Hutt bebop jazz never bought a transatlantic ticket so I am no beat. I listen to well-weathered guitars in dive bars where people dance with razor-cut smiles and open mouths like tombs all gurning and contorting to life. I listen to poets in ties. I listen to men…