In Conversation

—Pen in hand to trace the path. The sun shone through my window this morning, revealing a hidden map. Then, it was gone. For a moment in rejoice, I thought I’d found the way out. . . . Yet . . . Yesterday’s ghost lay boxed, forgotten in an empty room, and I heard memory …

Poet, Sleuth, and Scout: The Noir World of Clay Blackburn Owen Hill’s The Giveaway: The Clay Blackburn Story brings together three novels and a short story featuring the poet-sleuth-book scout Clay Blackburn—a singular character navigating the margins of Berkeley, California, where radical politics, literary ephemera, and existential mystery intertwine. This omnibus serves as both an …

   Thoughts on Prayers Milt, my eighty-year-old live-in father-in-law snoozes on his catnapper Laz-E-Boy. A half-gnawed Slim Jim droops from his clenched fist. His chin rests against his sternum. During fits of wakefulness, he boasts that he’s managed to hold on to his hair. You can almost see it in the afternoon light streaming through …

Basic Bitch Economy Actually no you’re wrong about that you’re wrong about most things so sit your ass down in the hot seat and I’ll tell you why. My pussy ain’t none of your business and instant pussy is an inside joke but nobody lately is laughing. I can sell my pussy on Rodeo Drive, …

[a measure of anarchy] earthly and cumbersome we slowly learn the lay of the land wary of words so seldom spoken in truth if we realized this we might hold our tongue until a more advanced age becoming all the wiser without playing their game we can still choose not to fall into place, into …

Terror Terror is waking up abruptly in a barroom eye to eye with a man you don’t remember ever having seen before breathing words like fire down your throat in the awful silence of a dream not a dream   Alan Catlin worked for the better part of 34 years in his unchosen profession as a …

Cityquake I run and the streets split under my feet like paper in a careless hand. Neon scratches my eyes and I laugh because someone has to and it might as well be me. Walls lean in but I lean back harder leaving marks like signatures no one asked for. The city hums, traffic blares, …

One Cowgirl, Two Cowboys The village of Peterpan, OH seemed to nearly buzz with activity. It was the first Friday of the month, the biggest day of the month for this small town. On first Friday evenings, unless it fell on a holiday, the village held a dance party and everyone that was anyone in …

Wayne Mason/The Death Factory/LJMcD Communications Wayne Mason and I have been Florida born Poets and have known each other for over 20 years. We both know what it takes to be Florida Poets and we’ve always had a healthy respect for each other. I felt Wayne’s last chapbook was some of the best Poetry I’ve …

         In The Kingdom of the Blind, The One-Eyed Man Has                                        To See Some Pretty Stupid Fucking Shit   I hadn’t been awake for more than five minutes. I’m trying to pour coffee into my Kill Bill coffee mug (a mug some folks would describe as vintage which blows my mind because, goddammit, I …