by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
by Charles Alexander Neal A long, crooked road stretched between the forested mountains deep in the heart of the country of Mariposa. It was evening and the sun painted the sky in shades of red and gold and cast dusty shadows on the beech trees surrounding a village. The evening…
by David Tuvell In the beginning was the text, which had an argument with silence, and this birthed god into the air. There’s a running argument between god and yahweh, between trees and breezes, between Dickinson and Ashbery. We have set up camp here, in a Japanese zen garden, and…