“Sweet William” [by Ern Malley]
Sweet William I have avoided your wide English eyes: But now I am whirled in their vortex. My blood becomes…
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Sweet William I have avoided your wide English eyes: But now I am whirled in their vortex. My blood becomes…
Nothing ever dies It only changes Into something else Like old songs That blow gently Into new ears To find…
The shadow seems tangible Showing the way, Taking up a glowworm’s Napoleonic duty In the face of crisis Dragging the…
Jill Allyn Rosser presents a poem by Tony Hoagland Today’s offering is perhaps not the usual Hallmark take on Father’s…
photo by David Haas ________________________________________________________________________ from TAXI NIGHT…
Oscar Wilde [left], in his 1899 essay “The Decay of Lying,” wrote “Life imitates art far more than art imitates…
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down at bohemian caverns upstairs over the pharmacy Rahsaan explodes the room manzello, strich, nose flute all blues, nothing abstract…
— Because you don’t save, Mr Deasy said, pointing his finger. You don’t know yet what money is. Money is…
He gathers his pale dust cloud of valorous silence, reminding us of heroes of youth, a frail split mind trying…