Adagio For Strings
by Betsy Sholl The radio’s weeping again, this time without commentary, so it could be for anything, these strings brought to the breaking — for
With Jack Myers in France
by Paul Christensen You were my guest in southern France once, with Thea fussing with car rentals on the phone, my wife fixing breakfast at the
Jacob William
by Paul Christensen I was upstairs in Jack’s house on the flat suburban prairies north of Dallas, tossing among the words and muses of his little
Jack The Believer
by Paul Christensen When Jack said getting his first real job (SMU in Dallas) saved his life, he was like an trapeze artist in the Cirque de
Small Monuments to Fear—for Jack Myers
by Ariana Nash I have made a sister of a stone statue, who willows her head into her lap, bending over ferns. She wakes me up in the morning to
Untitled
by Ralph Angel Were you guilty of something your story would wear a black suit and come to an end. I leave you alone. I mop up the afterlife and