
Silence and semi-darkness inside the market hall. Only the moon strolls among the empty stands, with a shopping basket on its arm. Faint lights on the counters and their retractable shutters. Loose apples and cabbages hiding under them. The building is somber, surrounded by dark houses. The windows—illuminated squares. There is not a single soul around at the market at this time but the fish in the aquarium. This is their time. Tubes carry whirring air under the water along the sidewalls. There is a lot of jostling for room. The stronger ones swim up to the edge of the

punk band ideas l scully first idea Motorboat Widow second idea Abort Your Kiddo third idea Muscle MILF fourth idea

I read. I write. Sadly, I’ve learned over the years that I am an awful reviewer. I can converse about books, but when I set out to write about them, the critique part of my brain devolves into grunts and hoots. Any intelligible attempt at an academic critique finds my original thoughts replaced by clichés and tropes. The same for my emails (all subject to endless drafts and restructuring). But not today, Satan. Today, I blurb. I can blurb. That I can do. Hence the style of this column. Warning, all books are praised. A few, more than you think

They’ve brought in a man with a lie detection kit for the reunion of the seventh season of my second favorite reality television show. They’re getting all of the ladies wired up to his machine and asking them if they think they are the hottest lady in the office. The “office” is the real estate firm where they all work as real estate agents. All of the ladies say, no, they do not believe they are the hottest lady in the office. The machine goes off every time. It’s good to believe that you are the hottest lady. It’s gotten

Part of the fun of being a writer, and learning from other writers, is seeing what others leave of themselves on the page. To follow their work and discover their signature—the intangible that makes someone’s writing so intensely theirs that there is no mistaking it for being anyone else. There’s no mistaking Aaron Burch on the page. Tacoma (out with Autofocus Books) has all the hallmarks of a Burch book—nostalgia, magic, fun, optimism, friendship, and more heart than almost any other writer doing it today. As writers, we’re often taught that characters should grow through hardship, conflict, and struggle. Tacoma

$25 | Perfect bound | 72 pages
Paperback | Die-cut matte cover | 7×7″
Mike Topp’s poems defy categorization. That’s why they are beloved by seamstresses, pathologists, blackmailers and art collectors.
–Sparrow