August 2009
1 post
Elizabeth F.A. Meaney
The Class of 2009
The winter the squirrels starved, we were scared seniors without jobs. In a secondhand suit and shoulder pads, you went on forty-three job interviews. Your resume was well-printed, and they liked you, of course; your curly hair and eager words, your salary demanded lower each time, as if your financial security was a limbo and you could hover between the bar and your ...
July 2009
3 posts
Jan Richman
Driving Out of Providence
I can’t see anything at first. My eyeballs are air-drying in the night’s fake leather interior. It’s like I’m backwards crying, the tears sucked out from behind my eyes into the chamber of my head, sloshing there amongst the already wet deception-sensors and the spongy flowers of incorrect assumptions. But the front slits, the parts that saw you & wanted you, are...
Jeffrey McDaniel
Letter To The Woman Who Stopped Writing Me Back
I wanted you to be the first to know - Harper & Row has agreed to publish my collected letters to you. The tentative title is Exorcist in the Gym of Futility. Unfortunately I never mailed the best one, which certainly was one of a kind. A mutual friend told me that when I quit drinking, I surrendered my identity in your eyes. Now I’m just...
inaugural post: Matthea Harvey
The Future Terror/7 From the gable window, we shot at what was left: gargoyles and garden gnomes. I accidentally shot the generator which would have been hard to gloss over in a report except we weren’t writing reports anymore. We ate our gruel and watched the hail crush the hay we’d hoped to harvest. I found a handkerchief drying on a hook and without a hint of irony, pocketed it. Here was my...