POETRY

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by Todd Quackenbush

“Now that we have all the right tools for the job, we can put them away for the last time.” Read more

Photo by Jamie Ditaranto

See the local sites, try the local kisses. Read more

"'Drink up, Joe. Hell is closed.' / laughing out the side of his mouth / Killing me the rest of the way." Read more

"My name is Bar, like the stool." Read more

"My house is the smallest oldest little house on the block / neighbors tour over and look down / call the fire department." Read more

The rhythmic churn of an unbalanced drum Read more

"In her dream, my wife said I abandoned her in the middle of a strange city forcing her out of our car." Read more

A M Felicisimo CC-BY-SAA

"Desire, he said, wants what is not in reach. So reach for me and dance me out of death." Read more

There was a fire in your former home, it was on the news. You brought me here, once, in my youth when nothing impressed me. Read more

Grief’s a bastard. Read more

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