Here comes a school of them right now- Just look at em! They are sooo wasted they have to be strung along on a guide rope, one walking like Frankenstein, another like he’s on Broadway. These addicts can’t take two steps in the same direction without falling all over the place. And it’s only noon. […]
What I so clearly remember
From the years we lived beneath the el tracks,
Or just blocks from them, were the freezing
Waits for the train and the hopelessly long
Don’t look back. In stations of the cross, you move on.
It’s time to go, he smiles, pulls the key from his ripped jeans,
At night I stand in the street and smoke
among rows of dormant cars, and all dark
save for sporadic twitching television hues
My island is ugly. Bare and bleak. It rises from the earth, fifteen feet high and dimpled like a camel’s hump, ringed by acres and acres of corn; an ocean of sweet Indian gold.
I had arrived to the hospital in labor, and waddled into the emergency room like I was about to claim a lottery prize. Instead, I got Claudia in my room. My baby Liam died before I delivered him.
PHILADELPHIA – Philadelphia Stories literary magazine and The Fairmount Park Welcome Center will present "Forgotten Philadelphia," a new exhibition that runs from September 15 throu
Shannon tapped her pencil on the desk, trying to command my attention.
His only boy, first caught in crossfire
then a crowded E.R. where shouts for back-up,
a gurney, a god mixed with heartbeats
I’ve been on both sides of the speed-dating table at Push to Publish.