Help us raise $200,000 to keep the Rail independent, relevant, and free!
ahlan wa sahlan note a poem o receive it here as it charades onto history's gauzy list
No, in a shed under the machine You stopped brushing; then you resumed brushing
I wont die at a party like this, falling over the contortions in my gut or floating over the whirlpool of cups...
One of my basic human dilemmas goes something like, Does metaphor contain us, or do we extend ourselves out into it?