February 2015

David Appelbaum – Notes on Water – 4

<< Read Part 1 << Read Part 2 << Read Part 3 4. Drought Even in its absence, water is a signifier. So much so that some say thirst, the desire for water, was the first thing. It then begat its object and drank bringing our cosmos to pass. I do not wish to argue […]

Barbara Harroun – You Are Here

Two weeks out of a small, liberal arts college, Gwen found herself lost in the dark, somewhere in the deep woods of Wisconsin. She was one of two adults in charge of sheparding four inner city Chicago youths through a month of camping and basic survival skills. She was hired thanks to her recent degree, […]

Tracey Knapp – Corner

outside a man has stopped hitting a tree with a stick the streetlight stutters on, off a bike frame stripped bare, locked to a stop sign on the lamppost, a crumbling printout of a missing cat a homeless woman cradles a boom box like a baby I have an ambivalent interest in the stars which […]

Cammisa Buerhaus – Daikyo Furoshiki

David Appelbaum – Notes on Water – 3

<< Read Part 1 << Read Part 2 2. storm In its nativity, water is motion, circulation of a primal life-force that can cloud the window on a drizzly October day and leave reason to suffer its illogic. In both its gross and subtle bodies, water is change, the only constant, and so is like […]

Barbara Harroun – Like Lazarus

The summer of my junior year, I killed my best friend, Tony. True, it was a car accident, but I was the driver, and it could have been easily avoided. We hung upside down in a tree, the result of speed, a five-beer buzz, and cresting the hill we’d jumped a hundred times going faster […]

Tracey Knapp – Tony’s Bar

the last time I drank a lot was in this town where we laid in the road at night in the shape of a star beer was cheap and at Tony’s you could buy a cigarette for a quarter someone always threw popcorn at you to get your attention it makes a difference in a […]

Cammisa Buerhaus – Brooklyn, Market Hotel

David Appelbaum – Notes on Water – 2

<< Read Part 1 1. flood Much can be said of a phenomenology of the flood and to say it opens the breast. An outpouring, a good thing taken to excess, a superabundance in the field of feeling clears the ground of thought like ammonia to the fagged brain. I find it strange that wiping […]