Category: Arts

Poems

Mack’s Conversion Skimming back and forth across the Holy Land, Elijah felt the need to set down his chariot and he did so upon the banks of the Jordan. He came to a small tavern near to that spot wherein … Read More

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Dogmael

I can’t say I’m anything to be anyone to be saying a thing about it, but I’s heard it enough, I have, as much as any. But it was, gah, it was over yonder ways near Bristhlewaight or Skinnamarok or … Read More

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Two Short Pieces About Love

I. The old man and the old woman have been married for many years. Scattered around their small house are indications of the time that has passed; a doll the husband brought back from Japan, in a paper-thin kimono that … Read More

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Desperately Seeking Franny

The first two times I read Franny and Zooey, I was going through, to borrow a phrase from Salinger, a “blue period.” I have come to identify these low times with the term “melancholy,” a gloomy Victorian adjective that has … Read More

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Bones

“I saved a man’s life today.” She’s asleep. I climb into bed. My mouth hovers hot over her ear. “I saved a man’s life today.” That does it. She rolls over and has this medusa look. Quickly, I drop and … Read More

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The Reappearance of Simple Words

La Rambla of Barcelona is like a mile-long circus. Thousands of people speaking 20 different languages come and go on the promenade at all hours of the day, stopping to admire street performers dressed as mermaids, Roman statues, and harlequins … Read More

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All the Pretty Corpses

Cormac McCarthy has established himself as one of the great American authors of the 20th century. His magnificent Border Trilogy, comprised of All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing, and Cities on the Plain, told the hardscrabble yet ethereal tale of … Read More

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Dr. Webster’s Case File on Minna Ipsen

She had no plans to grow old, and she had no desire to feel her hips hurt (1). Minna was sitting by her grandmother’s bedside in Munroe Hospital when the woman called out in pain. Even though it has been nine years since her grandmother’s death, at night when Minna tries to fall asleep those screams still play like a broken record in her ears.

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Your Mother

Let me tell you about your mother. For one thing, she is really quite hard to love.

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Grandmother

My grandmother was a pirate. The other was an astronaut. She would have been, anyway, had she not failed her medical exam due to large traces of cocaine in her bloodstream. She was also a drug runner across the border, much to the shame of my father and uncle.

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The Marvels of Creative Writing

A week ago, I sat down with famed Princeton creative writing instructor Gabe Hudson. Aside from being loved by his students, he is an Editor-At-Large at McSweeney’s and the author of Dear Mr. President. His work has appeared in The New Yorker, GQ, and The Village Voice, among other national publications.

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June 15, 1936

Billy stands in the stern, chin tilted upward and twenty-gauge at his feet, dipping that pole into the night water like a gondolier and pulling us along in rhythm. My arm muscles are getting sore as I steady the sides so that the boat doesn’t tip us over into the swamp like it did last week; my legs stretch out and brace the gunwales, my feet lie in the caked mud that crumbles off Billy’s boots.

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