Wright Lane

by Joshua Morse

Step out of your car one dead end road past the last luminous streetlight,
and let dusk cup your cheeks in its inky hands.

Leave your jacket bunched in the back seat and feel the navy black prickle
of March in the country well after dinnertime pierce your city shirt,

it is not an old friend’s embrace, […]

2020-01-30T08:26:48-05:00January 25th, 2020|

Trist

-by Griffin Cooper

February 22nd
Quiet-
drum drum drum
put me back in-
when I had red hair
everywhere
And you.
Dimpleful, drunkenly drumming.
drum drum
weeks hitherto
I have not forgotten March.
Go:drum
if you stay by polite bind
then you have already left me here.

Y’er Old Boy is a
boney boozehound now.
Your Old Man is a
starved stag, stretched
and flayed.
More than you need.
More than you Use.

 

Griffin is a graduate […]

2020-01-28T09:49:31-05:00August 18th, 2019|

When I Wrote On the Road

-by Griffin Cooper

When I wrote On the Road I was shopping.
Scrolling through sticky blue and purple hues.
A country tune plays the theme songs to
ads for oriental televisions
and it’s all a little too easy isn’t it?
That’s when I wrote On the Road.

Maybe I’ll hop the next FedEx truck and
Scribble On the Road on the back of
cardboard […]

2020-01-28T09:52:28-05:00August 18th, 2019|