The Lemon Meringue Pie Contest

September 16th, 2014

My dad used to make lemon meringue pies a little too tart. And when you’re 13, a little tart is awful tart. He complained about the grocery store’s too-sweet lemon meringue pies and the pies my mom made occasionally. “Too sweet.” So Dad decided to make one to illustrate all...

Devoted Donor

September 12th, 2014

They met on the floor of U.S. Can Co. in Elgin four years ago. She had two kidneys; he had one. She was a water tester, checking aerosol cans for leaks. He was a millwright, doing “damn near everything under the roof,” as he put it. On his first day...

Next in Line

September 9th, 2014

The dogs were barking and I could hear a bunch of them in the front of the kennel bark extra loud so I knew someone had come in. I filled up a few more food bowls and laid them out on the kitchen counter in the back of the kennel....

green throb

July 28th, 2014

      I don’t know if it’s karma or not, scales in the sky balancing or the holy spirit herself slipping rocks into my pockets or lifting my wallet out. I just know you put a sliver streak through my brain and spine. Out of my shell and away...

Foreclosures funded by taxpayer money — Updated

October 7th, 2013

      Over the past five years more than 4.5 million families lost their homes through foreclosure, but there would have been fewer if the federal government didn’t give tax payer money to the banks to push citizens out of their homes. The $700 billion Troubled Asset Relief Program...

 

The Lemon Meringue Pie Contest

My dad used to make lemon meringue pies a little too tart. And when you’re 13, a little tart is awful tart. He complained about the grocery store’s too-sweet lemon meringue pies and the pies my mom made occasionally. “Too sweet.” So Dad decided to make one to illustrate all...

Devoted Donor

They met on the floor of U.S. Can Co. in Elgin four years ago. She had two kidneys; he had one. She was a water tester, checking aerosol cans for leaks. He was a millwright, doing “damn near everything under the roof,” as he put it. On his first day...

Next in Line

The dogs were barking and I could hear a bunch of them in the front of the kennel bark extra loud so I knew someone had come in. I filled up a few more food bowls and laid them out on the kitchen counter in the back of the kennel....

Home Is Where the Craps Tables Are

Bud Johnson misses his car and Elgin’s Grand Victoria Casino. His car, because that’s where his pillows are. The casino? “The boat is my life,” Johnson said. For the first time in years, Johnson hasn’t been inside the casino for more than a week. He’s been locked up in jail....

The Payoff

  Arthur brought his fingers up to his nostrils with the quickness and fluidity of a third base coach sending the bunt sign to a batter. When he felt clean, unobstructed nostrils, Arthur’s hand fell away to an empty sugar packet, and he ran his fingertip over the crisp edges....

Dear Hippie Girl

      Dear Hippie Girl, I realize my slip-of-the-tongue yesterday at the anti-war rally was not cool. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, or myself, and I’m sorry. So that’s what I wanted to say right off the bat. Okay, I think that’s taken care of now (and I...

clear channel

      When the water smoothed the earth, it carried something special. On the rocks this dream died. The current carried the bones away. The sun burned off any memory. But a seed remained, lost. In the good book, ever notice that the men constantly misunderstand Jesus’ call to...

green throb

      I don’t know if it’s karma or not, scales in the sky balancing or the holy spirit herself slipping rocks into my pockets or lifting my wallet out. I just know you put a sliver streak through my brain and spine. Out of my shell and away...

yellow fever

      You are the sweet lemon, and I the favored fool loosening love between her limbs. You are the delivering dawn. You are the dusk and evening’s layered lust. You fall in raindrops, cratering my dry sands. You are dandelion vapor making magic, a single sunflower seed planted in my soiled...

Madman is loose

  The madman slipped out. He took the secret trapdoor out of my skull and is making his way to the bookshelf. Honestly, writing and publishing a book is quite a challenge, especially making a narrative out of some poems from a couple years ago. Some of the lines I wanted to...

 
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