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50 best cult books

May 10, 2016 – 8:29 am | No Comment

A cult book may be hard to define but one thing is for sure: you know a cult book when you see one.
Cult books are somehow, intangibly, different from simple …

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Chicken Breast or Rump Roast

May 23, 2016 – 6:45 am | No Comment

Chicken Breast or Rump Roast
by Donal Mahoney

Freddie and Fern were an old couple, a very old couple if truth be told, but on the matter of age, the truth seldom surfaced. Their kids were grown and gone and had families of their own. All of them lived in different cities and two of them had even asked their parents to sell the house and buy a smaller place near where they lived. But Freddie and Fern, despite all their aches and pains, were an independent couple and they liked their privacy. Seeing their grandchildren was nice but living close enough to have to babysit them, that was quite another matter.

Most evenings Fern would sit in her rocker and work crossword puzzles and Freddie would sit back in his recliner and watch whatever sport was in season. They were very different people but in 50 years of marriage they had always gotten along well. Each was solicitous of the other’s needs. Always had been. But as age encroaches, certain needs change and others remain the same, life being what it is.

Fern, for example, had arthritis pretty bad. Her back was always acting up on her. From day to day, it was just a matter of how bad it was.

Freddie had arthritis in both legs but he could still get around pretty good for a man with his ailments, too good sometimes as far as Fern was concerned, especially when Freddie would get that look in his eye. Sure enough, he would ask her if the next time she had to go to the bathroom, she’d bring him back a Coke from the fridge. And, of course, she always did.

But Fern always knew it wasn’t just the Coke Freddie wanted. The old goat wanted to watch her walk down the hallway. He told her many times she had more bounce to the ounce now than when she was young.

Hardly, Fern thought. Still, it was nice to hear him say that. But if Freddie looked as though he was going to be pestering her that night, Fern always wanted to go to KFC for dinner first. And if she asked Freddie to go there, he would always oblige, hoping everything would go well later that evening.

On this particular evening, though, when Fern brought Freddie his Coke, he seized the moment and asked her if she wanted to go to KFC. Fern hesitated because her back was bothering her something terrible. She didn’t think when they got home she would be able to give Freddie the dessert he was looking for. But she did like her KFC chicken, two plump chicken breasts with all the trimmings, so she agreed to go. She could just see the pond of gravy in the well of her mashed potatoes. And butter slathered all over her green beans.

At the restaurant, Fern ordered her two pieces of breast meat, as usual, along with mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans. Plus a side of cole slaw because she had promised the doctor on her last visit that she would eat more fiber.

Freddie, who preferred any cut of beef to chicken, asked for his usual order of gizzards and fries. A chewy gizzard was really the only part of the chicken he could tolerate. With ketchup on his fries, he was a reasonably contented diner.

When they had finished eating, Fern knew that her back was so bad she wouldn’t be able to meet Freddie’s needs when they got home. She told him nicely in a code they shared that her back was killing her and that she was afraid there would be no breast meat for Freddie that evening.

Freddie hesitated for a moment and then asked Fern if she thought she would be able to roll over and sleep on her tummy. Fern said probably so because when her back was this bad, that’s what she usually had to do. Couldn’t sleep any other way.

Freddie smiled, sipped the last of his Coke, and said that was good to know. A little rump roast would make a fine late night snack.

SWAMPIE

May 21, 2016 – 6:42 am | One Comment

SWAMPIE
by John Grey
He lived so close to the cypress swamp,
the howls, the screeches, the thrashings, of death
were as common as bird song.
From the deep bass notes of day
to the coffin …

Spring In Remission

May 19, 2016 – 6:41 am | One Comment

Spring In Remission
by Noah Gordon
I’m thinking of the shy way
you walked toward the treeline,
and how we talked about the oldest
Cave in Illinois,
how they boarded it up after a blind child …

scarf

May 10, 2016 – 8:14 am | 2 Comments

e pluribus unium
by Halifax
there are wars
but not peaces
we oversleep
not sleep in
conflict is broken
into shared pieces
reciprocated in kind
until a full spread
has been laid out
peace is portrayed
in a field waving
like a picnic …

Riding Schwinns in ’56

April 28, 2016 – 7:46 am | One Comment

Riding Schwinns in ’56
by Donal Mahoney
You had to have a Schwinn
to lead this pack of boys
riding bikes full speed
baking under the Chicago sun
laughing after senior year
heading to the local park
to …

Worldly Ambassadors

April 24, 2016 – 7:43 am | 2 Comments

Worldly Ambassadors
by Pat A Physics
“There is very little time,” she entoned.  “Yeah,” I half laughed half said.  “These are what you need to take, and the more you experience, the …

Poem

April 22, 2016 – 7:42 am | One Comment

Poem
by John Gray
To Arthur Edmonds
Geranium, houseleek, laid in oblong beds
On the trim grass. The daisies’ leprous stain
Is fresh. Each night the daisies burst again,
Though every day …

Did you see the moon tonight?

April 18, 2016 – 7:09 am | One Comment

Did you see the moon tonight?
by Ben Macnair
Did you see the moon tonight?
It hangs silently,
going through its cycles.
A rough draft,
A lump of clay, unfinished,
Drinking in the sunlight.
Did you see the …

Seed

April 16, 2016 – 7:23 am | 2 Comments

Seed
by Kathleen Driskell
In first grade, you met Squanto,
nearly naked and
on his haunches, showing
those thick-headed pilgrims
how one must plant fish
to grow maize. And in autumn
you dove into the lobotomized
pumpkin, into the …

Believe This

April 12, 2016 – 7:51 am | One Comment

Believe This
by Richard Levine
All morning, doing the hard, root-wrestling
work of turning a yard from the wild
to a gardener’s will, I heard a bird singing
from a hidden, though not distant, …

Peace and dolls, models I’d fuck.

April 10, 2016 – 7:49 am | No Comment

Peace and dolls, models I’d fuck.
by Smokey Farris
Tea jew,
Jack wanted me to inform you the sex seeve has arrived at our eastern ware house on a se6.
Half the shipment is …

Sunflowers

April 8, 2016 – 7:45 am | One Comment

Sunflowers
by Kieran Borsden
Remember when we were sunflowers,
elevated by spring-time devotion—
ever reaching to the boundless sky?
How we faced the sun, entranced, and followed
as it arced into the night—then waited
for tomorrow to …

After the Winter

April 6, 2016 – 7:37 am | One Comment

After the Winter
by Claude McKay

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning’s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered …

Tyrannosaurus

April 4, 2016 – 7:33 am | One Comment

Tyrannosaurus
by Tomás Sánchez Hidalgo
It’s seven in the morning
while we navigate through the Leviathan,
without a compass,
and with a wicked Tyrannosaurus
affixed to the very center
of the galleon’s deck,
in the middle of a …

Untitled

April 2, 2016 – 5:27 am | One Comment

Untitled
by Greg Bem
Dreaming of a fleeting bit of normalcy in my verse but I left it all.
No sense of noise and no sense of tone and my gut’s bigger.
Perhaps the …

INSIGNIA

March 30, 2016 – 7:24 am | One Comment

INSIGNIA
by Stefanie Bennett
The Beloved’s passing
Glance is
All you need
To know
Of a soaring
Radiance -.

Last Advice

March 28, 2016 – 7:22 am | One Comment

Last Advice
by Jeffrey Harrison
The night before my father died
I dreamed he was back home,
and I in my old room
on the third floor, and he
was calling up to me
from the bottom …

FROM COLVILLE ST. TO ALDER ST.

March 26, 2016 – 7:14 am | No Comment

FROM COLVILLE ST. TO ALDER ST.
by Denis Mair
I’m a moth drawn to a glow that soon fades
Where is that cherishing fire still tended?
At crossings where nobody watches
Someone may be lighting …

Finding the Lego

March 24, 2016 – 7:19 am | No Comment

Finding the Lego
by Maryann Corbett
You find it when you’re tearing up your life,
trying to make some sense of the old messes,
moving dressers, peering under beds.
Almost lost in cat hair and …

Deconstructing DNA

March 22, 2016 – 7:13 am | No Comment

Deconstructing DNA
by Casey Bush
(spinning yarns)
dogma at the public house
swamped by hogwash
what I see in the mirror
is more substantial
than what it reflects
(salt and pepper)
grown tired of Existentialism
all that being and nothingness
when …

Ode of Girls’ Things

March 20, 2016 – 7:17 am | 2 Comments

Ode of Girls’ Things
by Sharon Olds
I loved the things that were ours—pink gloves,
hankies with a pastoral scene in one corner.
There was a lot we were not allowed to do,
but what …

3%

March 18, 2016 – 7:08 am | 2 Comments

3%
by Ben Macnair
They say that a person,
and a Banana share 97%
of the same genetic material.
It is that 3% difference that leads to bones,
Teeth.
Hair.
Skin.
Opposable thumbs.
Inbuilt bullshit detectors.
Technology.
Music.
Science.
Art.
Trolls.
Film.
Pack mentality,
and the internet.
and that …

Accident

March 16, 2016 – 7:05 am | One Comment

Accident
by Joan McNerney
If only it had not rained
the sky black and wet as
we hurried across streets.
Perhaps had he worn a
light coat it would have
been easier to spot.
Maybe if the cab …

electric grackle

March 14, 2016 – 7:53 am | One Comment

electric grackle
by Josh Bomberger, Oswald James

electric grackle shhhhh
sssshhhh
gasssssssssssssss
gasssssssssssssss
grab hold of yr wing

letter rip

behind each gate
lies a destructive paradise

waiting

in limbo
to be unhatched my

by the unsuspecting fa
dwellers vo
of the six gates ri
.. .. .. .. .. te
s

Why they call this March when the doors are mostly sleeping

March 14, 2016 – 7:02 am | One Comment

Why they call this March when the doors are mostly sleeping
by Dan Raphael
Texture not a knee
blanket or furnace
fog in a valley seen from above
night’s not always colder
Learning to inhale mouthless
my …

once was lost

March 5, 2016 – 5:19 pm | 3 Comments

By: Halifax
the search party
once was lost
became twice
when once revisited
to form a habit
in denial
of being single
once again
there is no going back
to when there was one
since one is seen
at a distance
similar to …

Review of the album by Mike Garson – “The Bowie Variations”

March 3, 2016 – 7:35 am | One Comment

Review of the album by Mike Garson – “The Bowie Variations” 2011
Review by Volodymyr Bilyk
Back in the 2011, when everybody seemed to give up on waiting for something from the …

Les Rêveries Réelles

February 28, 2016 – 7:11 am | 2 Comments

Les Rêveries Réelles
by Amit Parmessur
I see myself sucking on an erect Marlboro
backstage and letting the smoke make
slow love with my green tongue while
crowds of eager fans queue up for …

To End in Tragedy

February 26, 2016 – 6:42 am | One Comment

To End in Tragedy
by Holly Day
the octopi approach one another with resignation
knowing their coupling is doomed
that there is no happy end to this story.
Their limbs float around them as they …

A Walk to Carter’s Lake

February 24, 2016 – 6:58 am | One Comment

A Walk to Carter’s Lake
By David Bottoms
Look, above the creek, hummingbirds in the trumpet vine.
Not too close, wait. See the green blurs
stitching the leaves?
Here at the edge of the millennium
I …

SIGNS

February 22, 2016 – 7:08 am | One Comment

SIGNS
by Stefanie Bennett

… You remained the same
For 40 years:
You put the cat out
Instead
Of the milk money -.
The squatter’s chair -.
The imaginary Diva
From next door -.
The pilot-light
And a picture
Postcard
Of Pompeii.

Always, you …

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