Take Me, I’m the Drug
Poetry by Pam Carter.
Sunday Comics
There’s so many people who can talk and talk and talk and just say nothing or nearly nothing — I have used up all the scale I know and at the end I’ve come to nothing, or nearly nothing.
The Opportunity to Say Goodbye
Fiction by Mark Libucha.
Free Thing of the Week: The Wired CD
Free Thing returns this week with a throwback to the early days of the copyright wars.
13 Years: Poems from North East India III
Poetry by Goirick B.
Sunday Comics
You’re older than you’ve ever been, and now you’re even older. And now you’re even older…and now you’re even older. You’re older than you’ve ever been, and now you’re even older. And now you’re older still.
How Will Our Children Know They Face a Crushing Debt Burden?
Deficit hawks are sure to be out in droves soon complaining about national debt. But how meaningful is the debt? Dean Baker writes.
Steeped in Sepia
Poetry by Rochelle Jewel Shapiro.
Sunday Comics
Dance with me, my old friend, once before we go. Let’s pretend this song won’t end and we never have to go home — and we’ll dance among the chandeliers…And nothing matters when we’re dancing
In tat or tatters you’re entrancing. Be we in Paris or in Lansing, nothing matters when we’re dancing
