The summer with Avyan had a before and after: before his widowed father came to visit and—afterward. I was an out-of-work graduate student in the sixth year of my doctoral program in Political Science, slicing my life thin and watching the end of a relationship slowly burn out, like a curtain winded by an errant candle.
We are delighted to announce that Snarl will host our very first Prose and Poetry Contests starting December 1st, 2021. Submissions will close on January 31st, 2022. Any writer residing in the US and who identifies as marginalized, whether due to their economic status, race, ethnicity, gender identity, sexual orientation, disability, incarceration or immigrant status, or otherContinue reading “Snarl’s First Poetry & Prose Contests”
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, possiblyContinue reading ““The Wheel of San Geronimo,” an Essay by David Simmons”