Monday, March 30, 2020

14th off Sixth in ‘73. By Susan Tepper

This is the hard place
of tepid light, smoking
men seated shoulder to 
shoulder— scarce inches 
apart hunched over 
it’s lunchtime—
Overcoats seen better days.
Those hats some type of 
camouflage?  What am I 
in this dump off Sixth—
Barkeep whispers Last place 
expect to find a pretty girl
Making time— where 
the bar makes its sudden curve 
and my stool wobbles uneven




Susan Tepper is the author of nine published books of fiction and poetry. Her most recent is a chapbook of poetry titled CONFESS published this month by Cervena Barva Press.  Last June her road novel “What Drives Men” was published by Wilderness House Press, and shortlisted at American Book Fest Best Book Awards. Other honors and awards include eighteen Pushcart Nominations, a Pulitzer Prize Nomination for the novel “What May Have Been” (Cervena Barva Press, and currently being adapted for the stage), NPR’s Selected Shorts Series, Second Place Winner in Story/South Million Writers Award, Best Story of 17 Years of Vestal Review, Shortlisted 7th in the Zoetrope Novel Contest (2003), Best of the Net and more. Tepper is a native New Yorker.

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Striving By Alex Z. Salinas


Larry Rios—murderer and unrenowned Chicano poet—strives to pen the realest poem of all time. How to accomplish that? First, accept that 70% of life is false advertising. Second, appreciate the blood-soaked earth. Third, limit cheesy, sentimental adverbs. I mean, really limit them. Last, write opposite of what you’d tell your mother. Easy. Then suddenly Larry is sidetracked at work. He commiserates with colleagues. He reluctantly buys a fish. He thinks about his (s)ex. He chews on last words of his favorite novels. He writes frog poems to generate better ideas. He takes hot showers, hopes the fog inside clears.







Alex Z. Salinas lives in San Antonio, Texas. He is the author of WARBLES, a full-length poetry collection from Hekate Publishing (2019). His short fiction, poetry and op-eds have appeared in various print and digital publications, including in The Crossroads Magazine, and he serves as poetry editor for the San Antonio Review. He holds an M.A. in English Literature and Language from St. Mary’s University.

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

Stephen. By John Doyle


Stephen’s everyone's friend.
Stephen looks like Rob Halford, but it's ironic -
his sociology friends laugh; Stephen - eating lentils
so everyone knows how right-on he is.
Stephen dated Amanda - it didn't last, but no-one's bitter -
Stephen’s everyone's friend. He told me call up tonight -
I even brought blank cassettes 
so he could rip some Devendra Banhart for me.
Who the fuck is Devendra Banhart? I think.
The dead weight fog of cannabis 
and pseudo-intellectual chatter warns me
from his door. I leave his illusion behind me
after knock number three; I go home and listen to Cedar Walton





John Doyle became a Mod again in the summer of 2017 to fight off his impending mid-life crisis; whether this has been a success remains to be seen. He has has two collections published to date, A Stirring at Dusk in 2017, and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018, both on PSKI's Porch.