by Richard DiFino
I rode the subway trains to take me away from everything that I hated, my father, his fist, the blood and everything else in my seventh floor Bronx apartment. The train was my hero, my savoir, my …
Running the marathon, I noticed many signs that read “You run better than the subway” or “You run better than the __ train!” I found the signs funny, especially the ones relating to the R, the train I take to …
He was seeing doubles: two yellowing trees, two empty park benches, two flowerbeds where there should only be one. Actually, he corrected himself, what he was seeing were echoes, the reverberations of light waves pulsed around his …
Daria Smith Giraud
The clapping of my beaded braids
were downbeats to dirty New York streets.
Brand new shell top Adidas chasing a gaze
of graffiti tags thrown up subway upbeats
where summers were my treasure under stars and moon.…
We met in Tokyo in 2002. I wore platform sneakers and glitter in the daytime. It was just you, me, and forty thousand people at a design fair. My two year stay was coming to an end – …
We’re going home for the holidays in our December issue. But what is home? And how do we get there anyway? Our crop of writers is conflicted about the nostalgia of homecoming and the sometimes dark places the …
Published in Issue 1
It was the middle of winter as I sat on a chartered bus along Heidelberg Street. It started to drizzle.
Detroit has great potential, I thought. It doesn’t matter if the automobile industry comes …
Being a fledgling literary magazine doesn’t just mean reading our own submissions and publishing pieces in our tiny little corner of the internet. It means participating in the wild, wooly, and wonderful world of literary journals and magazines. At AWP, …