“Speak, Plastic,” a Poem by Jade Hidle

Sữa: milk. (Watch the dip of your tongue–Sửa: to fix.) Curdle rinsed. Empty plastic gallons windchimed against your collected hollow aluminum. Cans creased sharp. Sliced your and mother’s fingerprints. Stung to grip the bag.  Big enough to float.  Gravity-less smile on cartoon Earth. Revolving wheels crush and haybale. Overalled, the attendant opened our bag to sort and toss. Five cents. Ten cents. Not in California, not … Continue reading “Speak, Plastic,” a Poem by Jade Hidle

“The Wheel of San Geronimo,” an Essay by David Simmons

On the corner of 16th Street and Peralta, in front of the New Jerusalem Baptist Church, is an antediluvian dopeman who will give you balloons of brown powder in exchange for exotic cheeses. For a pound of Jersey Blue you can expect at least three balloons; a pear-shaped Caciocavallo Podolico could get you six, possibly seven. Definitely seven. It is a well known fact that … Continue reading “The Wheel of San Geronimo,” an Essay by David Simmons