Category: Arts

Allegory

A beautiful woman of equestrian breadth, Lets the ends of her hair dandle in her wine, And the talons of love and the poisons of nightclubs, Give her marble skin lifelessness and gloss, And she teases Death and ridicules Debauchery, … Read More

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Sunken Town

The blaze that engulfed my hometown began before I was born. It began with the first dry leaf from the first almond tree they planted on the side of the town hall road. My mom planted it as a child, around carnival time, the year when her dad the Mayor decided that the town would grow.

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Shadow-boxers

Here’s how I saw De Quincey High then: stained bathroom walls; pregnant girls; boys with knives and guns and bandanas; teachers with fear so engrained that it folded into their faces in wrinkles; a gym that could have been a prison; a cafeteria that was one; cheap lipstick and cheaper condoms; a dirt track; fences.

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ADEQUITE by LINDSEY MORGAN LOHAN

He Died and I CRIED – no I swear that I did Many tears down my face like a litle tiny kid Warm and Wet they were like a facial from Wilmer And I wished Robert was there so he’d … Read More

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The Adventuring

The dragon now is yawning With the sun’s new dawning And greedily is fawning O’er the gold of fallen fighters of yore. Meanwhile D & D dice are rolling To represent fearsome fighting While from a cloud with silver lining … Read More

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Four Shiny Haikus, like Four Shiny Small Roses

My friend got a job Hey, it’s fine, I got head from your sister I deserve an A But I won’t do you. You are a Guest Lecturer Listen, babe, I swear She looked like you except for The wandering … Read More

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Sheng Sheng Man

That night I’d gotten immensely drunk. I stumbled to the hole of a convenience store behind the kabob stand and, under the baleful eyes of a young woman who sat with her son in her lap on a plastic stool, … Read More

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Shit I’ve Been Doing

I know, I know, I haven’t written in a long while, but I wish for Chrissakes you’d stop yammering on about it. I have obligations, obli-fucking-gations, and there’s no getting around them. If you think for one second that I’m … Read More

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Introducing William Brown

Sweet and scum-kneed childhood, like shy adolescence and even bickery elder-age, touts certain requisite activities. When one is about eight, it’s morally reprehensible not to spend a portionable amount of wet afternoons in rubber boots kicking up mud puddles. Skipping … Read More

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Yo, man…I’m feeling this

We here at the Nass are great lovers of literature and, if we do say so ourselves, the latest in a long line of great participators in the epic, Wilsonian tradition of the precept. We love few things more than a lively precept involving a close, thoughtful reading of a poem and an exhilarating discussion of poetic technique.

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Muldoon, Between the Tropics

To read good poetry is to pull a Band-Aid off a wound. I heard someone say that once. Not a big wound, maybe just a paper-cut, where the skin puffs pink and new. When we remove the covering we return … Read More

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The Burning of Las Fallas

We met at a nightclub called Doblón on March 11, fewer than 12 hours after an international terrorist organization bombed four train stations in Madrid. That afternoon we had each joined thousands of Spanish protestors in the plazas with white-painted … Read More

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