NYC Readings 21-22 October 2016
This was a night when it seemed readers came from “all over the map” to be together in Manhattan.
Read more "NYC Readings 21-22 October 2016"Flash
Hard Pressed | The Jellyfish Review
It didn’t take long for Woodreau to come to an agreement.
Read more "Hard Pressed | The Jellyfish Review"Smoke and Mirrors | My Interview at SmokeLong Quarterly
I feel like writing may converge back to the sonnet, some new form of sonnet. Some cut-paper, GIF-flashing, Alfred Bester moment where all of a sudden a mind makes a leap and says Holy wordnado! Look what’s happened! In sum, flash is where it’s at.
Read more "Smoke and Mirrors | My Interview at SmokeLong Quarterly"Mothers + Sons | 31 May 2016 | The Airgonaut
From the pharmacy on Holland Street, to the haul up Mountain Avenue, then down the hill on Valley Road, along the old Leni Lenape trails through the woods, where the nut sedge shudders and the mamas stow their fawns, there is a box of Playboys from the 1980s.
Read more "Mothers + Sons | 31 May 2016 | The Airgonaut"Summer Baby | 23 May 2016 | SmokeLong Quarterly |Reprint
I hear, yet see the circus acrobat, pretty lady, who can hula-hoop fifty silver rings at a time. Sometimes they are all rotating excitedly out of rhythm, and then, in a moment of fluid clarity, all the hoops shimmer as one serpentine tube.
Read more "Summer Baby | 23 May 2016 | SmokeLong Quarterly |Reprint"New Fiction: Before the Funeral | The Gambler Magazine
Hemingway wrote a Ballantine Ale ad in 1951, saying he kept bottles “in the bait box with chunks of ice” and that “you ought to taste it on a hot day when you have worked a big marlin fast because there were sharks after him.” Papa sure could toot his own horn for a payday.
Read more "New Fiction: Before the Funeral | The Gambler Magazine"2 April 2016 | Chad Works at the IMF Now | Pidgeonholes
He moved from Shearson to Goldman to Bear Sterns in five handshakes.
Read more "2 April 2016 | Chad Works at the IMF Now | Pidgeonholes"New Fiction: Cotton | Gravel Magazine
Even while our mom and aunts and great aunts shouted over canasta tiles and laughed loud and warmly as they hunted maraschino cherries in their holiday whisky sours, and our dad and uncles and grand uncles clustered in the kitchen playing poker and drinking happy Pabst from glasses with droll cartoons on them, my sister and I stayed hunkered down in the little village.
Read more "New Fiction: Cotton | Gravel Magazine"New Fiction: Joseph Conrad Took Twenty-Five Years to Bust My Balls, That Twit | Jellyfish Review
Over time, I permitted the Russian to border-cross my thoughts.
Read more "New Fiction: Joseph Conrad Took Twenty-Five Years to Bust My Balls, That Twit | Jellyfish Review"
Anne Elizabeth Weisgerber 