
David Wanczyk My brother on Log Plain Road with Creedence on the stereo, too close to the guardrail in that Taurus he’d later explode. He’s breaking the limit on a fifth-gear coast, gliding home from a mile away without the brakes, 38 in a 15, Down on the Corner, Out in the street [...]

Scribbling from the margins of that cultural framework is seventeen year old Jolene, a high school senior in Toledo, Ohio. The teenage Jolene is a girl that many of us have known, or dated, or perhaps even were; the kind of girl whose carefully cultivated gothy exterior functions a carapace for the anxious, artistic depressive beneath.
![jim3[1] James Douglas Morrison by Rachel M. Cresser](http://shakinglikeamountain.com/shaking/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/jim31-179x300.jpg)
i’ve got fourteen passports, ranging from
the seychelles to singapore
two CD’s: guns n roses and paul potts.

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Only weeks after my adoption had been finalized, I was whisked to the first day of first grade with a new first name – along with the new last one. The Catholic school in which I was enrolled recognized only the names of saints. This obliterated the only first name I’d ever known, “Honey,” and bumped up to first-name status my middle name, Elizabeth (Hebrew for “consecrated to God”).

Candice Breitz (South African, born in 1972) 30?Channel Installation / 30 Hard Drives * Vanmoerkerke Collection, Belgium. *Courtesy of the Artist and Yvon Lambert Gallery *Courtesy, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston About a year ago I had to chop 10 inches off of my long, blonde locks because they were caked with black, acrylic [...]

Turning right, Route 22, in the night sky a jeweled jet arcing left. On the radio: When a man loves a woman. You and I married 22 years. Some scientists say time does not exist, only human aging, crisp leaves releasing, ringing of chimes. This thing we invented— [...]

In a shoebox of cassettes the scrawled-in-pen names of DJ’s are spelled-out on thin, white stickers. These faceless heroes of our forgotten scene have taken day jobs or managed to tour Europe with only their decal-covered travel case of vinyl records to spin in still-happening clubs, like minstrels carrying pairs of turntable needles instead [...]

Lisa Mednick-Powell Twenty-five years of memory can kink a lot of cable. —Richard Hugo If you haven’t been shopping, with a migraine in the snack foods aisle at a brightly-lit convenience store in a cold dead city, choosing between salt and vinegar chips, or cayenne-flavored crackers shaped like tiny fish, you wouldn’t notice Rod [...]


