by Zach Jones My baby’s favorite book is television. Cheap porn is the best thing she’s ever read. Like me, she was raised on the best diet: Bullshit, booze, and Wonder Bread. Her hair is supernatural. A smile of ultra bleach. When we get lucky, the neighborhood knows, ’Cause we paint the town with my bloody nose. I feel commercial. I feel hardcore. I feel American. Drive-thru parasite. Supermarket sloth.
Writing has always been part of my life. As a child, my journey began with writing short stories about family summer vacations. As a teenager, I kept a journal for many years, writing about friendships. Today, I am grateful it is a daily part of my life teaching English and…
by Richard Adams Carey I remember my mother being an atheist about the aging process. “I don’t feel any different,” she would protest as the decades marched on. She didn’t deny the aches and pains, which she did feel, and which were different. It was more a mental thing, a…