Monthly Archives: November 2012

Impression #5

by Christopher Raley   Even at night there was a thought of light, some wayward beam from the street, the blue touch of the neighbor’s tv.   But here they all die. Night is the elemental superstition that swallows you … Continue reading

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For Gerry Mulligan

by Christopher Raley   Happiness is hard to express because everyone thinks it’s phony. Thank you, Gerry Mulligan, the Irishman   playing blues in New York, putting Bebop into Dixie or was it the other way round? In that case … Continue reading

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The Addict

by Christopher Raley   The addict’s calloused fingers tugged the cuff’s balled up frays. It wasn’t always like this, says Regret, and let her say it again. We spoke to speak a new thing and the newness was defiance to … Continue reading

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