by phoenix | Apr 24, 2018 | Poetry, Story
This is where you make your wishes after all, three sheets to the wind, thumb rubbing up the brown glassy condensation, wistful, dreaming of Kristobal or Mirabella or Carlos, in your bars and your nightclubs, sweat and grind, the neck of the bottle between long...
by phoenix | May 31, 2017 | Story
We may not win the battle, she says. And while there’s always fear, somewhere down in the heart-sore depths of watching our children grow, there’s always fear that things can change in an eyeblink, that the wing-free lightness of the trilling dancers of a...
by phoenix | Oct 27, 2016 | Political, Story
There used to be water in California; snowmelt rushing through ravines to coalesce laughingly as lakes and lagoons and other summer indulgences. That was long away and far ago, in some strange before time when the land wasn’t riven with cracks and the heat had some...
by phoenix | May 4, 2016 | Story
Step off. Or not. It’s one of those decisions that hovers at your peripheral vision — are you ready? Wings unfurled at your back, that sensation of almost-moistness lingering — will they hold? There’s a time limit… go too early and you plummet to the bottom...
