I think, before I die, I’d like to live in a lighthouse, for a while, or maybe a succession of lighthouses (if I plan this thing out just right), right up to that point, I guess, where they carry me out in a bag, hopefully […]
Jason Ryberg
Timing the Thunder
We were waiting for a storm to brew while the moon played accordion and wore a paper- boy hat (rakishly angled), looking down on the empty streets of our nameless little town that most people only seemed to remember because of something horrible that happened here a long time ago. But it’s just another Friday […]
Pine Box and a Shallow Grave
for Aaron Streelow It’s when you get the blues so damn bad that every song you listen to, no matter the beat or the groove or the tune or what it’s about, even, is still, somehow, then and there, the saddest, most sorrowful and lonesome song you’ve ever heard, and you catch yourself sniffling and […]
Perhaps It Would Help if You Thought of the Poem as …
a hermit’s hovel of many mansions, a shimmering silk kimono billowing on a clothes line in central Kansas, a meteorite, suddenly fallen in your backyard (pulsing with a strangely hypnotic and inviting glow), a particularly toxic strain of word virus, a flaring moment of clarity in the middle of a mosh pit, a tattered travelogue […]