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Summer 2015

Calvin Looks Around

Hostas by Heather via flickr. Creative Commons license.

As the slug1 buried2 beneath a recurring3 hosta4, I5 have6 lived7 a sheltered8 life.9

Good Stewards of the Earth

To say that we are siblings is not enough. I’m not speaking just in terms of biology, but of the physicality. When we lay our arms side by side on the table, there exists still a shadow of doubt that they belong to the same person: Jake’s is broader and more densely haired. We are not […]


The Oslo Bar is down by the river, down the docks, you can hear the cranes, the winching, you can smell the dust and pick up a few kilos of bananas or a bag of coal from urchins. March is a rough month in these latitudes, when a damp blanket of fog descends for days […]


What I do not understand is where the tears go. A baby’s 2:00 A.M. cries for mother’s milk. Perhaps an ounce. A child’s skinning a knee. A couple of tablespoons’ worth, possibly. Lost and rejected love. Forgotten friendship. Faded ardor. Could be a handkerchief or two, full each night for weeks or more, then only […]