by Jess Earl Mama told me that thunder is just the sound of angels bowling. The angel outside my window doesn’t have hands but maybe it just can’t bowl, like how Katie can’t eat peanut butter. The angel doesn’t look like the ones in Mama’s paintings; it looks like a…
by Gil Hoy I had a nightmare last night A nightmare deeply rooted in an American nightmare Where churches and schools theaters and city streets were dying Where military weapons were firing into unsuspecting innocent crowds Tentwentythirtyfortyfifty pigeons intheblinkofaneye I awoke in a terrified sweat as bleeding children wailed and cried and screamed…