Painted Bride Quarterly is a fellow Philadelphia based magazine that publishes short stories, fiction and essays. Their current issue is themed “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” and it is a venture into the world of comedic poetry writing. The poetry night happened on the second floor of Black Sheep Pub and Restaurant and featured writers: Tyler…
The first interaction that Rutgers University- Camden had with comic writer Scott McCloud was his kind refusal, in front of the audience, to use the presentation projector closest to the window because “it wasn’t bright enough.” That being said, Scott McCloud is the most down to Earth guys you could ever meet. He made jokes…
I admit it. I roll my eyes when I see a Kindle. I am part of that clan of literary nerds who go to Barnes & Noble and inch around the Nook/Kindle table as if being anywhere near it will give me some sort of technology hive. That being said, I cringe when the descent…
In a setting where men buying comics in spandex suits and capes can be found every few feet, one would rarely think serious conversations about literature could take place. However, that was one of the wonderful, defining aspects of the 2015 Camden Comic Con. The Rutgers Camden Athletic Center housed everything from the comic vendors,…
It is my pleasure to update you on a few exciting bits of Apeiron news. The first is issue 9 is on it’s way and it will be new, improved, and better than ever (there may even be the option for turning real pages, but that will be revealed later). We had an excellent team…
And what of this wind-whipped, soggy, savory day with its cloak of grey and its stinging drops, brown grass and bare branches, stark naked but still in glorious, dancing majesty? There is no train of hopeful, athletic feet running through the park now; just my husband, myself, and our wolfish dog, trudging. My husband’s loafers,…
Selfie of March as Infatuation Change, as always, arrives late to the party. The pines in the yard stand ringed around stasis, the tips of their branches dripping dirty rain onto snow’s faded carpet. Even the sky stands off in a corner ignoring the small talk of crows, its gray coat draped over its shoulders….
The Tao of Virgil Sollozzo Look at my veiny hands. Look at the bare trees’ branches— we’re holding up the winter sky, giving it back its darkness. A pack of menthol cigarettes, a half empty bic lighter; cleaned out clam shell found on the beach by the stone calendar. In the movie, the doomed…
Hands of Chance form shadow puppets, shallow spirits hidden souls born skip across the evening piano, speeding allegro fleeting little song pour firewater liquors, for the tipplers morning’s remorse scar canvas with dark crayon, art seance exquisite corpse flick the card deck, bar bet conjure lost kings light his cigarette, fingers pirouette now his heart…
It’s Cold And The heat’s not working. The heater’s on, but I’m still freezing. The streets are paved with gross and I’m starting to wonder if these shoes really have what it takes to go the distance. The buildings are so high. The roads have so many potholes. The land has technical and creative challenges….
