Basaseachi by Matt Spohn
The teenage Federale slings his machine gun over his shoulder and bends toward my bag. Cocaine? he asks. Marijuana? I…
Wearing our heart on our chalk bags.
The teenage Federale slings his machine gun over his shoulder and bends toward my bag. Cocaine? he asks. Marijuana? I…
The granite escarpments of Castle Crags silhouetted the western skyway, massive gargoyles hunched and staring. I thought of my mother’s…
Dusk comes gold Off the dust of farmlands Where tractors still plow Fields nestled below mountains Dressed in ribbons of…