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“Clove Hitch”
“Elegy for a Moth”
“Green Mountain Coffee”
“Helios”
“Wood Board”
“Jeremy T. Wilson shares Victoria Patterson’s gift for creating empathy for initially unlikable characters whose destructive and compulsive behaviors hurt themselves and those closest to them,” Laura Johanna Waltje writes.
On 17 July 1936, the day the Spanish Civil War broke out, W. H. Auden arrived, by milk cart, to Hólar. He spent the morning inspecting the wooden carvings in the local church. Their violence shocked him.
When he returned to his hotel for lunch, he found the staff busily preparing for the arrival of a small party of Nazis.
Religious, you say? What’s religious? And when there are so many shades, so many tones and semi-tones of religious, who really qualifies as merely religious and who, as a nut job?
Addressing one of the US’s true emergencies, five former mayors told Chicago how they had reduced the murder rate in their cities.
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.
Whenever I heard “Michael Cohen” it was if it were a name not my own.
Welcome to ACM issue #56! This is our second online issue, and the second and last issue where we release all the genres at the same time. After this, we will send out individual pieces into the world.
I made no friends in Granada, which seemed natural enough to me. I read though. Oddly enough it was then I became fascinated by the American Civil War.
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.
There’s never anyone there to scold me, to watch over me, no one to demand, hands on hips, “Where were you, young lady?”
I realized I’d made a big mistake. I hadn’t advanced with her as much as I thought I had.
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.
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.
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.
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.
It’s always interesting to hear the term “free market” used in The New York Times, as well as other major media outlets. It’s rarely, if ever, done in a negative sense.
Birds on a Wire
There’s an image I saw somewhere online: two or three dozen blackbirds are perched up on powerlines. All are on the highest powerline except for one; on the bottom wire, there’s a lone blackbird smack in the middle. A caption reads, “Who did you notice more?”
Sometimes pain blunts my memory of myself.
I’m not trying to minimize your woes, but I’ll see your bad knees and rosacea and raise you no boobs, scar tissue, and fragile post-chemo hair.
For no reason I can remember I happened to glance uphill to my left.
Tell jokes about “miorities” to “minorities” to show you’re “down.”
