“What were once thriving online communities, have since become electronic tombs, full of messages and photos marking events throughout entire lives…”
I remember walking through a decrepit city. I am not alone. I do not remember who I am with, adult or child. Wife or child. Both, but only one. Both in one person, a conflation, an amalgamation, an imagination. My wife when she is younger than she is now, but older than a child, the child one of mine, no younger than now. Which child?
Though Carol Guess has been in the lit world for some time, her latest project Doll Studies: Forensics immediately grabbed my attention because of the unique subject matter. It isn’t every day you stumble upon a book of prose poetry that focuses on 18 dioramas of actual crime scenes…
Robert Fever awoke on cold cement feeling like he had been run over by a car. He winced as he sat up. By the shifting light of the naked bulb that swayed above him, Robert saw that he was down in his own basement. Dusty, uninviting workout machines provided the room’s only furniture. Several campaign posters that read “CATCH THE FEVER!” in red white and blue were stacked in a corner.
A pane of glass separated us. You were out on the street and I was in a hotel lobby. You were walking by like an ivory tower on heels. Your dark brown hair fell lightly on your shoulders, your bosom bounced subtly, your hips swayed. And then you did something I never expected; you looked at me directly in the eyes, and your face lit up.
John Allis takes in Annex’s Cocktails at the Centre of the Earth, and while it is every bit the zany, madcap, pun-filled steampunk romp it promises to be, there’s not much else there.
Though she was born in Seoul and grew up partly in California, author Krys Lee also has a few ties to Washington State. Some of her work is based on her activist work with North Korean defectors. Ms. Lee is reading at the Seattle branch of the University Bookstore on the second leg of her book tour, and was kind enough to answer some questions for us.
Heel-toe, heel-toe, thought Jerry as he walked down the sidewalk. His new shoes felt like cinder blocks tied to his feet. They were were shiny and black and rather handsome looking, but it wasn’t until Jerry had gotten home from buying them that he saw the soles were extremely thick–nearly three inches. Good lord, thought Jerry, I’m over six feet tall now with these shoes. He was sure that the people around him were smirking at his overcompensating footwear.
One morning—for a blink—a black rabbit
forages in downtown Seattle. I witness,
grin—the rabbit knows shortcuts
It was late in the day and golden sunlight poured into the apartment living room. Carl was sitting on the couch, idly picking near-microscopic pieces of lint from his black pants.