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FEATURES POETRY & MUSIC by MIKE MARCELLINO POEMS by ERICA MIRIAM FABRI FICTION POETRY PHOTOS by FARRAS ABDELNOUR GALLERY Q CREATIVE NONFICTION - THE WATER GIVER CONTRIBUTORS ABOUT US PAST ISSUES SUBMISSIONS |
Fictionby: George Held I went to a poetry reading in the South Village. That’s just above Houston Street. South of Houston begins SoHo, which means south of Houston. That’s pronounced HOW-stun. The other day on the subway the conductor announced the next stop would be HEW-stun. I thought we might be in Texas, because the accent was Southwestern. more
by: Dennis Vannatta It was the evening of November the 25th, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. All holidays were hard on Tom Carroll, and at the approach of the one he thought of especially in terms of family, he felt the need of a libation or two at O’Grady’s on 116th Street. Back in the bad old days he’d hit the bars every night and stay out for all hours, but those days were, mercifully, behind him. His trip to O’Grady’s was his first in a week, and even then he’d had only one beer and was back home by 8:30. Still, his wife, Margaret, made him recite his “catechism,” as he thought of it. more
by: Nicole Haroutunian The realtors all thought we were husband and wife. Eric played along but I corrected them. “I’m not married,” I said.
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