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(poetry)
Author: danzamarelli
What is it about jazz that grabs me, calms my spirit, focuses my mind? I enjoy jazz almost every evening. It is my tranquilizer after the cares of the day. It provokes memory and imagination and relaxation. It shows that there is no monopoly on joy.
(nonfiction)
it was not a big room, i don’t think i mentioned that, though it had a great view. my hashish angel sat on the rug near the sliding glass door, smile beatific.
(fiction)
There’s never anyone there to scold me, to watch over me, no one to demand, hands on hips, “Where were you, young lady?”
(fiction)
I realized I’d made a big mistake. I hadn’t advanced with her as much as I thought I had.
(fiction)
Hell, he probably looked like Michael, himself, who had taken plenty of girls home from plenty of parties, too – horny, hopeful; no shame for him in that – but had backed off if they said no, and just said goodnight.
(fiction)
These days they want to text, mostly. It is more discreet. They text me from their couches, their kids’ soccer games, their beds next to their sleeping wives. I will fuck you so hard.
(fiction)
I would tell Renee all of it, the details held in my stomach, fluttering up my throat as my mother and I got in the car and started the familiar drive to Skateland Roller Rink.
(fiction)
Sitting behind the crescent page desk facing the reading room, Clara slipped her hand between…
Poems by Laura Cesarco Eglin, translated from the Spanish by Catherine Jagoe and Jesse Lee Kercheval
“Index Finger for Touching”
“It Takes Strength”
“Staying Connecting”
“Kite-flying”
“Love Poem”
We don’t get along because we’re always fighting for a spot near the air pump.
The first time Isabel saw Camila’s ghost, she was standing at her beside next to the IV drip. Her face was still eighteen and fresh.
