A panel of grandfathers lived in the girl like a Greek chorus. One day she woke and they were building themselves bleachers. After that they didn’t do anything. Tired, they complained. They shouted
Self-portrait as fogged up car. / Self-portrait as Home Depot // parking lot at 3 AM, no cars, / no people. Self-portrait with // grocery cart with someone else’s / left behind list.
The Platonic Man cries whenever I cry. Tears will be streaming down my face and I’ll look up and he’ll be dabbing his eyes with a cloth napkin.
"I know why you cry,” I say at the Cuban
She said, during the commercial break, that she was a fan of westerns. I said, I loved the train heist trope. She told me that we were going to wait on dinner, or that we should order in. I said, I
We pull into the campground and it’s just like I imagined it would be: chaparral scrub receding to oaks and firs as we move up into the mountains on a gently winding road. You’d never know we’re
"Thought of you and our conversations this morning when I read David Shields' Riff column in the NYT Magazine. I get the sense that you're not particularly engaged with him one way or
Hello, readers. This is the first of two interviews with writer Ron Currie Jr. on the occasion of the publication of his new—and positively badass—novel Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles. Why two
I can take just about anything now.
Like how I returned from Christmas vacation to an inch of melted snow and a gaping hole above where I pee. Lake Effect, my landlord said, simply, squinting
Looking for the right angle
He poo-poo’s my relationship to nature, even when I tell him about touching the dead goat.
*
An intimacy that can hold the world?
An intimacy that
It’s the new plan, Shooter. Poetry for broken systems. Insurance rider attached.
To London With Love
Artist: Wilhelm Blech
Album: Musicus Miscellanous; Christian Dean & Musica Immunda
Label: DNS
I am always looking outside myself for traces of the person I
Five years ago I took some pills hoping to lose the perpetual 10-15 pounds that I would always like to lose. Today I’m in Denver because those pills turned out to be sugar pills, and the FDA had a
The first time I fingered a girl, I messed it up. Of course, I didn’t realize at the time. It happened on a Friday night, at a playground. There were four of us there. Two girls, two boys. It was a very open thing. The girl who I fingered said she’d let me try, and we sent our friends to the basketball court to wait for us.
Guildenstern flips the coin and holds it out for Rosencrantz to see.
“Heads,” Rosencrantz says. “Again heads.” He turns around. “So we were sent for?”
Guildenstern flips the coin. “I hear
We won’t drink the juice and we won’t make wine with it. Because, well, feet. But the secret none of us shares is the fairground sun has emptied our heads of moisture—the secret is, we are all
Captain’s Log: Captain Richard L. Hiltonshire, HMS Evoque, North Carolina Coast. May 12, 1801
The Coast is in sight. America, I pray, although with all that has gone astray on this cursed
And then there's Rob Delaney. The next time Rob Delaney tweets—which is probably going to be in the next half hour or so—almost 750,000 people will have it pop up in their feeds. (Give or take a
I fell in love with Lena Dunham from the first scene of the first episode of her hit TV show, Girls. I connected with her instantaneously, and knowing that she also wrote the script for the show
In my mind, I had already built a Lego wall around the perimeter of the yard, tall as the Siamese twin magnolia trees I sometimes sat in...
I was in this movie. I was in this movie. I was in it. I was there. I was ripping in and out of the titles as they blinked across the screen. I was swimming through the avocado walls into the house
I. There’s a message from home—a place we call Pineapple for the two kinds of trees that hide it from the river. It’s a clipping from my father. No greeting, just a photo and a little
Burns looks out toward the road. He puts a hand up to the glass and shakes his head. “I can’t believe this,” he says, his breath fogging the double-paned, oversized bay windows. “You’re not going
This month sees publication of our newest print issue, Hobart #14. As such, and as we have done to accompany our last few print issues, we are devoting the entire month to various "bonus materials"
This month sees publication of our newest print issue, Hobart #14. As such, and as we have done to accompany our last few print issues, we are devoting the entire month to various "bonus materials"
Mary Miller chose Becky Adnot-Haynes's "Baby Baby" as her selection for our 2012 Hobart Buffalo Prize. "Baby Baby" is included in Hobart 14, and Mary asked Becky a few questions about the story, specifically, and writing in general here.
This month sees publication of our newest print issue, Hobart #14. As such, and as we have done to accompany our last few print issues, we are devoting the entire month to various "bonus materials"
This month sees publication of our newest print issue, Hobart #14. As such, and as we have done to accompany our last few print issues, we are devoting the entire month to various "bonus materials"
