Your Calvin days were black boots, black pants, black shirt, black beret, and black sports coat, Goth before Goth, and then the herky-jerk ride with your parents from Michigan to Iowa City, the matchstick game from Last Year at Marrienbad we played for free drinks in Kenny’s, infinite pool with Willy and Jones in Donnelly’s, … Continue reading
Category Archives: Fall 2010
Interstate Vesper — Taylor Eagan
Amend the night and listen to it buzz. Butts of cigarettes rest in the ashtray, coax the sweet dampness of the equinox deep into their filters. evensongs, footnotes of the highway’s rev, found coiling around the day like kudzu, gagging the ultraviolet quiet out. Here is the still, collective unconscious. Idée fixe. Jargon to honor … Continue reading
In Addition To Water — Taylor Eagan
1. We lived one summer without walls. No sheetrock, just cherry brick from outside and the slivers of light that stretched between the cracks. We could hear the fruit man’s lucid voice through the skeleton of our row home. He called cantaloupe and watermelon, grapes and apples and then laughed a bit as the clicking … Continue reading
The Road To Work — Ann Struthers
The Latin Professor lives in the country drives a little red pickup, fills its box with grass seed, Omalene for his horses, the Georgics of Virgil. The philosophy professor drives a big black pickup. He carries Heidegger, Sartre, Derrida and Foucalt. He needs wide tires, eight cylinders. The German professor rides his bike, his saddlebags … Continue reading
Before Venus Rising — Ann Struthers
His little son beside him, the philosophy professor pulls his big, black pickup over, halloas at the crazy old poet walking in the twilight. He is taking the boy beyond the city’s lights to the country to watch Venus rising. The old poet trudges along, a fist full of stars in her hand, stars caught … Continue reading
True Miracles — Ann Struthers
The followers claimed his face glowed with celestial light, so it was forbidden for human hands to depict it. Although he never claimed anything except inspiration, never mentioned resurrection, yet some authorities think he’s back. The Dalai Lama smiles as if he knows, but he’s not telling. Lord Vishnu says he found him incognito wearing … Continue reading
It’s Like This — Robert Parham
I am at a party, control of which was eaten away at least two hours ago, and, hell, I am the host, the guy who should pull things in, keep them civil, only I’m the one who ate away civility… I yell at my ex-wife who is with a man who used to be my … Continue reading