by Craig Morgan Teicher I look to prove what I already believe, that each thing my eyes touch with their light is something they have…
by John Findura When the moment of absolute change comes it should be large and all-powerful – it should not have happened in my…
Each month a contemporary poet presents three poems and one personal essay in which food is consumed, passed over, or reckoned with. Craig…
Each month a contemporary poet presents three poems and one personal essay in which food is consumed, passed over, or reckoned with. Craig…
by Nikki Burst It would seem that being both a poet and a writer of a food blog would make it easy for me…
Betwixt the Arctic and Here I picked up a specter and now it follows me as the bone-cold day moon follows me from her…
Bhut Jolokia John Findura holds an MFA from The New School. A finalist for the Colorado Prize in Poetry, a Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference…
Untitled Horse Story Sometimes, horses for sale on the street are loosely tethered to parking meters and, once, I had just enough twenty-dollar bills…
Classic To say we were on the rocks would be old fashioned. I don’t want to advertise the bitterness. In Manhattan I meet a…