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The conductor
Short //
The conductor by

He thinks / the passing house a littoral one in the dark. / On his trip back to town in next day’s light / he will see it landlocked– / to think this will happen in a second’s / gasp. For now, he thinks / the moon out his window shines / a lakehouse on a shore whose waves he hears / glint in silvery footslaps all the way / to the rail’s end.

Zen Arcade //
18A by

Zen Arcade is a novel about zen, punk rock, and growing up in Minneapolis during the 1980s. We’ll be publishing a section every other Sunday until Summer 2015. This is the sixth section.

Command center of the coldest birds
Short //
Command center of the coldest birds by

when you hand weather designs / unpinned from the exit emergency / to the furnace / dumb with fire / the soap skinned / smell after sex / when you pinch / the eyes shut with salt / pin lines of wild fern / to the front of your shirt

Long //
Be There to Love Me by

In July, the fair came to town; and one day I went alone after work. Due to the fact there was the smell of sweat, the brush of elbows, the pervasive taste of dirt, all the while I felt myself missing the people I had helped bury.