Getting ready for AWP… There’s a version (arrows!) at Vanity Fair. Who knew?
Glass Sundays, my neighbor brings his glass collection out on his lawn. His Korean girlfriend sits next to him, petting a cat on her lap. She waves at everyone, as if she were queen of the town. The neighbor cleans his crystal and peers through it at the sun. Today, the girlfriend’s lap is empty,
Private Club I was a member now–secret handshake, passcodes, duties and privileges. Outside on the street I could spot other members too. I saw them take advantage, steal for themselves, and smile it all away. In the bylaws I saw this was our right. __________________________ Ken Smith’s Michiana Chronicles radio essays are broadcast on WVPE,
Lifted gratefully from Lapham’s Quarterly.
by Erica Shultz All I could do was breath sighs of relief. I arrived in Tucson ten hours late and waited at A Shot in the Dark, a 24/7 café, until the Roadrunner hostel opened for registration. It was a painful six hours trying to stay awake. The closest skate park was the Ott Family YMCA,