Jan 19
The Haunting of Room 904 by Erika Wurth Flatiron Books, $18.18 Review by Zack Kopp In Erika Wurth’s The Haunting of Room 904 by, a Native American paranormal detective investigates the mystery of room 904 in Denver’s famous Brown (Palace) Hotel, where her own sister committed suicide, most recent in a line of women to …
Jan 18
Unseen Men in Unseen Vans In the heat-wave streets of domestic “war zones” where bodegas hum and children skip rope between potholes and broken English dreams, they came – unmarked like a reprise of a 20th century nightmare scene. Masks, protective vests, guns drawn, ICE badges stitched into plain clothes, not even the judges recognize …
Jan 17
first published in the Scumrag by Scumbag Press in the UK This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: Rhea Melina’s Found Confetti (Carbonation Press, 2024) “I beg of you to not get me wrong, But you will” I met Rhea Melina on Telegraph in Oakland, at a craft beer and bottle shop where we …
Jan 16
The Great Flood of ‘25 I’m not leaving I’m just going to watch the rain Besides there are no more trains to catch Except for the occasional rental car that’ll lead you to A warm room in a strange deserted city surrounded by Words and friends and bad food and laughter All of which conspire …
Jan 15
Letters That Breathe Fire by Margaret Randall, New Village Press Letters That Breathe Fire is not merely a book of correspondence; it is a living archive of how literature once moved through the world—slowly, stubbornly, and with moral urgency. Drawn from the letter sections of El Corno Emplumado / The Plumed Horn, one of the …
Jan 14
Zygote In My Coffee (Her Breath) after Brian Fugett I suppose her breath was nice. I dreamt about her three times. She was watching tv all alone. She was sitting on a big pillow. The corner of the tv had what looked like a Post-it-note, and above her was a halo suspended over her head. …
Jan 13
First They Take Your Tortillas… “Make this make sense! Make this make sense!” Cracker McCracken is incensed about something. I can hear him bellyaching halfway across the factory floor. Five hours into the first shift following a two-week holiday shut down, and he’s already lost his goddam mind. He’s standing in front of his welder, …
Jan 12
The Wild Onion The dark wood bar was dimly lit The fireplace crackled with heat White Christmas lights peeked through garland draped around the room The long-haired musician wore a brace for carpel tunnel on his fret hand and would occasionally stop his rendition of Neil Young or The Beatles or Pink Floyd and shake …
Jan 11
The Engineer Halfway across the bridge we discover an avocado, dissected but unpitted. The event recalls a dinner at Claudio’s, where he tells us how the Tacoma Narrows was torn apart by harmony. We talk politics, the slow bullets of conversation fly, a dozen secret miracles. “I have not given up on the dream of …
Jan 10
all your hair there is my street addressing my sidewalk before nothing else of importance. and there is brick under the paving, loose stones and smiling holes that need to be filled. the sidewalk will darken in shame and hide when it rains. the street is a row of urinals flushing. and right now i …
