Latest Entries
Fall 2019 / Poetry 2019 / Volume 50

Ode to the Telephone Booth By: John Repp

I’d driven fifteen hours, things broken back there   or refusing to break—not the things with which I’d stocked the converted carport where I fried rice & cooked coffee,    no—things: Love, Work, Money, Innocence (that stubborn  fucker most of all). I was home again, nowhere to stay,  mother dead, father somewhere, brother north, sister … Continue reading