Artichokes in Winter for my mother We pound artichokes by the darkening window, Waiting for water to boil slowly. Radiator’s heat softens the winter…
Life here is all about the blood in your mouth & how language tastes wrong. Dan Hoy is the author of The Deathbed Editions…
Eat what comes from the sun. This is the first power. All worlds begin with its surrender. Dan Hoy is the author of The…
Gather your own water because it’s black magic. Grow your own food because it’s the black power of a black God. Dan Hoy…
Punta de Mita by Lynne Procope Today, when I can’t remember appetite, let me write this down: deep hunger of the ocean, the…
No Odes For Chicken by Lynne Procope Fowl, you fluffer of the uninspired sandwich, who first fathered you? Which paled god or dim swindler…
Red Beans and Ricely Yours Louis Armstrong thin sliced hog’s head cheese, souse, and horseradish, slices of pickles—with his sisters—and the thin tomato. Juicy…
by Karen Resta I once ate a starling. -it tasted nothing like stars. it tasted like hard muddy yard with rough grass and rocky…
Eating in Silence Anger is a pulse whose clattering is inside the glass heart and the grey cathedral. Slice the peach through the plush…