Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales. His first collection of poetry is The Minerout (2018) by Futurecycle. In 2020, his second collection, called Shadows of Tryfan is released. He is currently on an MFA at Manchester Met. His biggest poetry fans are his two dogs, Jasper & Lana. My Ears Wake First This early in the […]Read more "My Ears Wake First"
Peter Crowley is an independent writer and scholar with a M.S. in Conflict Resolution, Global Studies from Northeastern University. He works as Content Specialist/Production Coordinator for a prominent library science company. For fun, he plays in bluesy rock band around the Boston/NYC area. His writings can be found in Boston Literary Magazine, Mondoweiss, Mint Press News, […]Read more "Those who hold up the earth"
Mark Jackley‘s most recent book of poems is On the Edge of a Very Small Town. His work has appeared in Sugar House Review, Fifth Wednesday, Talking River, Timberline Review, and other journals. He lives in Purcellville, VA. Clemens Kalischer In his pictures of people arriving from Europe after the war, his subjects are bone […]Read more "Clemens Kalischer"
Small is huge, Wells Fargo tells us with a Pleasantville main street gloss. It’s tough to admit when a cynical corporate slogan hits the mark, but I can’t think of a better way to describe Portland’s Future Tense Press and its portfolio of literary fire-starters. Run by literary community extraordinaire and Powell’s ambassador Kevin Sampsell, […]Read more "Dreaming Fantastical Stories: Szilvia Molnar"
I’m filling my Earl Grey tea cup this morning at work when the weirdest water cooler conversation bubbles up. “Let me ask you a strange question.” I smile nervously, “OK.” “You ever close your eyes and press your fingers into your eyelids?” “Yeah, fireworks light show.” “Exactly!” He flutters his eyes closed and lightly demonstrates […]Read more "On Floaters and Flashes"
It’s all about confidence, they said. You have to have as much chutzpah as all those dudes who self-publish poem after poem about road kill and baseball, girls, their fathers, chess, sailing, yeats’ gyre and bukowski’s pocked face. I was bold to write aloud before three teachers said they liked my poems. I got excited […]Read more "My Life As a Published Man"
What made it all worse was that you had this dream of being a messenger of death. Because in this dream, the news of death was delivered to the individual by a series of worker bees, like yourself, who gave the mortal person a hand-written letter. The hand wrote in a large scrawl and was […]Read more "A Messenger"
The Miracle My husband and I were thrilled to arrive in Los Angeles to 80-degree weather and sunshine. We immediately parked ourselves on Huntington Beach, slathered in sunscreen to protect our Oregon skin, of course. Despite the sunscreen, we still managed to burn the shit out of ourselves. We came back to our friend’s beach […]Read more "Infertility: Part Two"