Poemgranat
I usually boast that I am from the 19th century
but reality dawned yesterday
really I am from the middle ages,
puf
“¿QUE PASA NEGRITA?”
Floodlines
Rivers of dark brown rainwater surged down the streets, overflowing the gutters and inundating the sidewalks all the way to the doorstep. The storm had begun just before dawn and had raged well into the afternoon.
chato
These people spent their entire vacation nowhere. Poetry by DeWayne Frazier Dickerson.
les demoiselles de buenos aires
in the cheapest pizza parlor of the city a grubby little girl dances on a red wobbling stool as her parents order the pie she wiggles her ass and sifts […]
Cienfuegos Cigar Company
The foreman takes a long slow drag filling his mouth smoke filling his head prayers climb the ladder of his cigar smoke He sits in a tall chair reading novellas […]
Rat Brain
Fair trade.
Super Pancho
Cody Laplante piles on all the fixins.
Speed Bump
We got in late to San Antonio de Areca. It’s a small gaucho town about two hours northwest of Buenos Aires. We’d hopped a fence on the side of a dirt road […]
Left Overs
I took the day-old bread – they wanted to toss it out with the orange peels and wet coffee grinds. (Compost is a foreign world with a ghost texture and […]
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