bensoileauphoto

Benjamin Soileau

Ernie waited until the man grabbed his can to speak. “Did you talk some shit to my wife?” “Whoa,” the man said, stopping to stand in front of Ernie. “I talk shit to everybody.” He laughed and the bald sidekick appeared from the other side of the truck, laughing too.
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coops

Friday Pick: The Itinerant Girl’s Guide To Self-Hypnosis

The space between self and other is rich for the writer, and mingling there, Cooper's prose poems perform a kind of reverse-osmosis. But this is no stultified confessional poetry. The mind at work here is quirky, urbane, ironic, and steeped in pop culture.
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Geoffrey Geoffrey

Geoffrey Geoffrey

My dad got lost on the way to the airport the weekend we flew to Illinois to watch my little brother play basketball. He got lost within five minutes of picking me up from my apartment. He's lived in this city for seventeen years and he can't remember his way around.
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Jeffrey McDaniel

Jeffrey McDaniel

If I were an organization, I’d be the UN. / If I were a pronoun, I’d be them. / If I were a fluid, I’d be smuggled rum. / In a missile fight, I bring a gun.
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Gale Marie Thompson

Gale Marie Thompson

Would that I could / That we closed the reactors / Would that we become / A blanket of cement in the forest / That we hide there with the nettles / And watch the Eagle land again and again
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