She had one of those yards that embraced the desert. Jimmy appreciated that. Instead of battling the cracked earth, bullying it into producing a lush green carpet of grass, the area around the small terra-cotta ranch was covered with carefully combed pebbles and dotted here and there with decorative rock gardens. The fence was weathered, cowboy wood, and against each fence post leaned an old-timey broken wagon wheel, never a circle complete. Cacti twisted toward the sky, nestled in with otherworldly species, spiny and savage and casting a forest of sharp shadows. Jimmy eased the van up the cracked drive and turned off the engine, the sweet breath of the air conditioning dying against his face. He grabbed a large black duffle bag from the passenger’s seat and went to the door with swift, purposeful…
“Theory of Evolution” by Bob Mustin
“Can you believe how pissed he was?” says Lenore. She holds up a thumb and forefinger. “He came this close to telling us we’d never work in Atlanta again.” It’s opening night, half past midnight, and Morris Champion has just closed Titans. Lenore, Alicia and I are commiserating over coffee and doughnuts in the Buckhead Diner. There’s a clatter from the kitchen, the crowd is loud and boozy, and I’m uncomfortable that we’re shouting. A finger to my lips, I nod in commiseration. “He’ll get over it,” says Alicia, in a surly sotto voce. Her black curls are aquiver, the muscles in her prominent jaw tense. “He’ll remember refunding two weeks of advance tickets, that the Concord is sitting empty. Common sense will strike him dumb, and we’ll be on again.” “I don’t know,” I…
The Poetry of John Grey – A Look at the Modern Male Psyche
DEAD MAN PLUS INDIFFERENCE In the fading light of a city block, a soul’s stretched out on the bed of a second floor tenement, smeared with goo that attracts insects, shiny black things mostly: one that crawls across his lips as if testing his breath for takeoff, another with a wobbly gait like a drunk on a spree that finally drops into his earhole. On all sides – percussive indifference – staircase trampled by incessant feet, room above a cacophony of chair scrapes, apartment below, an interminable coughing fit, outside, traffic noise and the usual sidewalk hoodlums, loud veterans of their own impatience to be richer than their friends in jail. Dead man’s unmoved by the world around him as he is by the tiny creatures clinging to his skin. In better days, he would…
“Switzerland” by T.R. Healy
Seated on a three-legged stool, Neuheisel inhaled the steam rising from the cup of Costa Rican coffee then with a soup spoon broke the thin crust that began to appear at the surface of the cup. Briefly he closed his eyes then filled the spoon with coffee, leaned over, and noisily slurped it into his mouth. Jenny, the young woman he was training to be a barista, smiled. For a moment he let the coffee sit on his tongue, making sure it touched all his taste buds, then spit it out into a large brass bowl in the center of the table. “Now it’s your turn,” he said after filling her six ounce cup with coffee. Again she smiled, sliding a little closer to the table. “First off, you should identify the aroma. Is it…
A Bevy of Poems by Paula Bonnell
Waking from a Nightmare I am awash in the terrible seas of the night; dream waves lift me and drop me. Every hollow is a deep pit: water for drowning is its floor and I am sure to go under. Gold could be lead in this lack of light, and the sea so big no one could measure its changes. I am rising through blacknesses, drowned in the bleak shutting out of even the sheer blasts of the weather. And as I am rising, utterly lost, the dark water leaching my last warmth you are there soft in the bed beside me, the mercy of your flesh draped exactly on your skeleton. Your body posits axioms of warmth as you draw breath, confident as the geometer in the sand, and though the soldier strike you…