Artwork by Charles Borges Accardi
Shower Venice Beach I
Charles Borges Accardi


Artwork

Charles Borges Accardi | bio

Dead Bulb by Charles Borges Accardi  Out the Window by Charles Borges Accardi
Peephole by Charles Borges Accardi  Yellow Dish by Charles Borges Accardi

 

Nonfiction

Scott Gould | bio

Boy on Fire: Williamsburg County, 1971

I set fires for my dad when I was twelve. Back then,
he was a forester for the state, and one of his jobs
was to start and supervise controlled, prescribed
burnings for big landowners—small, low-roaming
fires that burned off the underbrush from a spring
and summer of growth and needle-fall
... [more]

 

Audio

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Anne Haines | bio

A Field Guide, A Map

On my TV, kept on
for company,
a bowerbird
makes a nest of shells, bones, pebbles
...[more]

Snow at Midnight

The way snow piles up on branches,
perfectly aligned and silent,
makes my heart break
in this hushed white midnight world
... [more]

Sarah Layden | bio

In the Trunk

My old high school rent-a-cop
now directs traffic with yellow gloves,
almost two decades after
I took my last exam and cried
my way to college
... [more]

Something in the Way

We never find out how she moves,
just that something attracted the singer
like no other. Maybe a jaunty stride
down the sidewalk. A series of gestures
... [more]

The Tax Clown

The funeral procession
is the final vestige of civility
on the American road, and still
I honked
... [more]

 

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Volume 4.1 | April 2009


Editors’ Notes

Crisis and Resolution

Everyone is feeling the pinch. Economic crises affect much more than monetary flows: they affect how we perceive and dream. They affect how we philosophize and write ... [more]

Poetry

Bridget Bell | bio

Locks

Everyone is a liberal when they are young.
-- My mother

This said around the same time I asked Eric to shave my head.
We decided to leave nothing but a patch,

an inch long sprout dyed bright red like a rose
pushing out from my brain
... [more]

 

Jon Boisvert | bio

Fields

If you shave a doll’s head,
the pattern left behind
looks like
cut corn fields in winter ...
[more]

Poor

You are feral in ways:
the thermostat at fifty-eight,
you live exclusively
in the warm spot, the attic ...
[more]

 

Leah Browning | bio

Spring, and the Clocks Go Back

Spring, and the clocks go back;
this is where we lose the hour in the drugstore
with the home pregnancy test ...
[more]

 

Sean Patrick Hill | bio

Love Terns

There is no love like theirs.
They couple, I’m told,
for life ...
[more]

 

Jalina Mhyana | bio

The Lepidopterist

I cracked the arthritic spine
and examined it,
my fingers clumsy coroners
knuckle-deep in the book’s crumbling midsection ...
[more]

 

Adam Pellegrini | bio

Love Poem

Our love is like the wide
storm of trash
quivering off California’s coast—
[more]

My Suite, My Lovely

Midnight,
      and the pachyderms
just above our apartment

are drunk and trying to dance.
      They step like cannonfire
warning us from dreams ..
. [more]

 

Richard Schiffman | bio

Hawks and Crows

The sky, I’ve noticed, does not stop
to chart the flight of crows,
nor crows recall their flight
through air ...
[more]

 

 

 

 
 

 

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