Broken Bells
The wine stains shattered slate, fermenting still/s off wild yeast; a strain lost like Gospels in Crusades. The lonely tree survives somehow, through cavernous decay — of course the urban kind, a...
View ArticleMy First Bar Friend
Sometimes I see him on the street, and our eyes will meet briefly before darting away, the way you look at that girl you hooked up with that one time and it was totally weird and you never talked to...
View ArticleAn Official Message From the Boston Police Department: If You Got Arrested at...
“Congratulations. You’re our first customers today who haven’t come straight to the bar to order Irish car bombs.” “But…it’s only 12:02.” “…” “And you guys don’t open til noon.” “Yeah.” “So you’ve only...
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