– Are you writing anything nowadays? – I don’t write. – Ever? – Ever.– Why so? – I just can’t. Every time a story pops up in my head, I try to lay it on paper, but as soon as I write the first sentence, I think it is the first thing ever written by humanity, and immediately stop. – Well, the good thing is, … Continue reading Dialogue by Nour Gourdou
Yes, I was in psychoanalysis with Doctor Freud to try to cure me of the paralysis in my right hand which was obviously psychologically induced since all the hospital doctors could not find a cause. And then, one time while lying there, I rememberedopening my parents’ bedroom door with that handand witnessing my mother, completely nude,in the arms of Jack, the ice cream man. Unfortunately, this remembrance had … Continue reading Psychoanalysis by Jeffrey Zable
The professor was explaining that when we die we don’t get to watch any more game shows, sporting events or soap operas on television. Nor do we get to eat our favorite snacks like yogurt, Cheez-Its and PowerBars, but that we do get to talk with a friend—who’s still alive—via walkie-talkie between the hours of two a.m. and five a.m. when a lot of people are sleeping: this on Mondays and Tuesdays, and … Continue reading Part of the Human Condition by Jeffrey Zable
As I open the refrigerator doorthe fluorescent glare attacks methe last month curledand blown away leaving me startled at the myriad of colorsproliferating on the glass shelfjostling against each otherlike bullies on a playground. The cheddar is nude and stubbled,cream coagulated and sour.Are those fuzzy blue moundsthe peaches I put there only a few weeks ago? I enter a battlefieldwithout the will to fight, my resolve … Continue reading Defrosting by Elizabeth Kirkpatrick-Vrenios
The strip malls are endless,false summits stretching out oneafter the other, but we keep driving, determined to escape the brand control. The rumor is that you just keep goinguntil the parking lots turn to soilthat runs right to the edge of the road,that you can walk in damp clayglomming onto your feet as if it had found something kindred,that you can sink your hands into the warmthof it … Continue reading Sunday Driver by Mark Dunbar
Beside the driveway to the mental home wherethey’ve got my brother,keen purposeful faces truant from theirafflictions bow downas if fallen from a height,hands in earth like seedsmisstrewn, I would say,but for him, but for myself. Cut grass and rectangular flower beds,red tulips in a row— would-be hosannas that pleadfor salvation instead.They’re streaked orange, yellow and purple,bend long stems like bows.“Parrot tulips,” mother says.“There’s virus in the … Continue reading The Visit by Mark Dunbar
When assembled, they release discord out of their pores,the enmity of multiple ages,deeply embedded in their core,and gall that lurks round the corners of their mouthstrickles down the walls of my stomach, engulfs the floor that endures their presence, drips from the very seats that bear their warring souls. When conversing, they conjure up the Tower of Babel,which possessed thousands of conflicting tongues,a gibberish that is unique in its … Continue reading Professional Babble by Susie Gharib
I PledgeAllegiance.To Gross Malfeasance.To Dissolution.Of Constitution.Dictator.Darth Vader.Sure Do MissRuth Bader.(Sure Do WishShe’d Left Us Later)Make Your PlansIf You’re Trans.If You’re BrownHunker Down.Take Good CareOf Your Womb.We Are WatchingYou On Zoom.From The CradleTo The Tomb.Take A Bow.Take A Knee.It’s The LandOf The Free.SpaceXCan You SeeIf There’s RoomEnough For Me? Continue reading A Foretaste of the Feast to Come by Charlie Robert
As anticipation for Lana Del Rey’s tenth album, Lasso, continues to build, it was only appropriate that the singer began to tease a new song a few months back. Specifically, a collaboration with Quavo that was hinted at as early as February of this year, when the two were seen leaving The Fleur Room together after the Pre-Grammy Gala hosted by Clive Davis. Being that, … Continue reading Language Matters: “Grandpa’s Glass” Could (And Should) Just As Easily Be Grandma’s
It’s almost impossible to fathom, in the current “content mill,” clickbait-centric climate, a magazine writer’s words having the kind of impact on the cultural lexicon that could span across decades and continue to endure. And yet, that’s precisely what David Blum managed to do in June of 1985 when arbitrarily coining the phrase “Brat Pack” on the cover of New York magazine. From the moment … Continue reading A Serious Actor By Any Other Name: On the (Perhaps Erstwhile) Power of Language and the Branding of the Brat Pack in a Pre-Branding World
