This poem not about flowers just goes to show how far we’ve come since the days when people could practically not think without a daffodil, when in poetry a rose was not yet just a rose but always stood for … Read More
It’s the apocalypse, and in its last death rattle, the illustrious Nassau Weekly decides to leave one more gift to humanity, to create the only remembrance of our time on earth, to cement an eternal legacy—to publish THE LAST LIST.
And what’s more there’d be too much to tell, with his folded-up face and our proximity, the fact that we’d lived so close to each other growing up, that in high school we’d mostly talk to the same girls and … Read More
Ad Pulcherissimam Fireassam Mariannam These humid days Tend to craze More than desert sun. But if her heat Will join this heat Then come come Delirium! The Beautiful Bain of My Existence (Jonesin’) We’re all struck soon or late, you … Read More
On autumn Sundays my parents would fuck wildly, like children. I remember this vividly. It was November and the air had begun to turn to steel. The turn was final. Pennsylvania does this each year—dies, maybe before Halloween, maybe after, … Read More
The Unknown As we know, There are known knowns. There are things we know we know. We also know There are known unknowns. That is to say We know there are some things We do not know. But there are … Read More
“My eyes darted between the two security cameras on the roof. Despite feeling cynical lately about the effectiveness of government, I had a feeling that these cameras were both working and monitored around the clock. I felt so patriotic.”
Between Fort Lauderdale and Miami lies the mid-size city of Hollywood, Florida, population 138,412. It’s an unassuming beach-front place in the regional mode. Encompassed are ten or so diners, several miles of coastline, several miles more of T-shirt and puka-shell … Read More
Or rather, I’ve done it—successfully completed my first debate with Sen. John McCain, whom I refer to as ‘John’ in order to seem familiar and approachable and non-Muslim.
Gregg Gillis sits in the library of Terrace Club; a few minutes ago he was eating potatoes. He is of average height and has enormous white teeth. He speaks rapidly and giddily, as though school has just been cancelled.
