by Tracy Thomas | Jan 8, 2013
The Clambake Refugees are running through the sprinklers of high summer. They’re careful not to dance on the crates of burning well wishers, careful not to get too close to the bird skull mill. They want to save God from the disaster of their thoughts, the mongoose...
by Jeffrey Harrison | Dec 19, 2012
The maple limb severed by a December storm still blossoms in May where it lies on the ground, its red tassels a message from the other side, like a letter arriving after its writer has died.
