~Kathryn Jackson I have a dream we’re in Barcelona.  You’re yelling in the back of a cab with your hair all dolled up like John Lennon, your heart pounding so hard like the whole rest of the universe has capitulated to atrophy.  You’re slurring your words and the second syllable of “Barcelona” tumbles past your [...]

–jennifer a. To we who are searching… for our words for our song for our poetry for our selves There are seasons of passing through deserts dry of crawling– parched and peaked– through wastelands barren And I have realized something: that while in this place of desolation no oasis did I find or rather for [...]