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Poem: Bratpack Jerry

“Bratpack Jerry” Bratpack Jerry’s still got it. He’s kept it all these years. Aztec Camera streams from the Kenwood cones, Oblivious is what the English boys are singing As the gaunt man sits fondling his shifter at the light. Radiation streams...

Poem: I Wanted To See Gardens

Through droning recitations Of financial cant, I heard those Quiet mental gestures point To something lost or missing In the low nasal grumble of Inversion and debenture. I wanted to see gardens, I could hear the young man Thinking as he sat before The barren actuary...

Poem: Broken Things

“Broken Things” I champion the broken things: Old-town busted concrete aprons In front of renamed stores. The quiet, soft, lurking decay Slowly overcoming the catalogs left On the floor of the abandoned ranch. This is the straightening of the line: The...

Microfiction: The Last Vacation

“I can’t see,” whined Harvey in his nasal, sputtering voice. “There’s too much light in my eyes!” He squinted and looked away. His cheek tapped the controller rod. His chair jolted forward by a fraction of an inch, compounding the...