by John Brantingham The first good day of the year finds you sitting on the bench outside the building where you work. You’re eating your sandwich across from the crow who is watching you and having whatever thoughts and daydreams and beliefs crows have on sunny May afternoons. Both of…
by Michael Sandler I usually begin with almond milk(from orchards siphoning the Colorado?)then plunk in yoghurt, banana, a few berriespossibly picked by migrants—I’ve seen them stoopedand wish there was a way of thanking themalso for the kale-spinach-Swiss chard mixof nutrients few of us get enough of,helping me vaunt the goodness…
by Craig Proffitt Eating lunch in my crappy car. Staring at the Swamp’s glass door with the peeling tinted film. Don’t want to be around my coworkers in the lunchroom. Can’t afford to eat out. So many wrong turns. Survive another day. Is that really a goal? I think another…
by John Brantingham The first good day of the year finds you sitting on the bench outside the building where you work. You’re eating your sandwich across from the crow who is watching you and having whatever thoughts and daydreams and beliefs crows have on sunny May afternoons. Both of…
by Michael Sandler I usually begin with almond milk(from orchards siphoning the Colorado?)then plunk in yoghurt, banana, a few berriespossibly picked by migrants—I’ve seen them stoopedand wish there was a way of thanking themalso for the kale-spinach-Swiss chard mixof nutrients few of us get enough of,helping me vaunt the goodness…
by Chris Dungey After another successful visit to the Presbyterian rummage sale, I have to wonder—who in all the Congregation is built so much like me that their castoff coats fit perfectly, year after year? Will he spot me one day, out of my choir robe, wearing his discarded garment. Hey, I had one like that!…