We're hoping to see you at the Archive tomorrow night (3/15; 7 pm; see previous post for details) for the release party celebrating the newest Bad Shoe. Here's a small sampling of the wealth to be found inside issue 5.
Faith
Brett Lars Underwood
She saw a dog puppet licking the branch outside her window
She had 17 girly, vodka drinks and a bottle of wine
Painted naked in acrylic all night long
Later that afternoon the dog puppet
dissolved into pain
Betsy
Bob Reuter
Bob Reuter
Mirror Trees
Christy Callahan
When spring came that year, my fifteenth year,
the Magnolia tree sighed and grunted,
and feigning interest would only produce
russet-colored brittle buds
and as they bloomed, then died,
my mom cried a horrible cry,
the sound tires make as they try to dig
their claws in to wet pavement.
Dad hid in the garage, twisting metal
and swallowing scotch.
When fall came that year, my fifteenth year,
the pine tree coughed and spat
needles across our roof,
clogging our gutters and tingeing it green.
My dad cried a horrible cry,
the sound a brake pad makes with its final grind
on the rotor before death.
Mom hid in the greenhouse,
planting Brazilian Verbena
and sneaking Pall Malls.
When winter came that year, my fifteenth year,
mom moved us to Manassas
where Magnolia trees never disappoint
and dad lingered in the garage,
awaiting the pine tree’s next move.
The World is a Pinprick
Erin Wiles
Erin Wiles
Until next time.
