Being Me The Trip across Texas is mine. Well, it’s in my name. The bank picks up the tab, I grab the fantasy: he practices my autograph in a cheap motel like a kid does Mickey Mantle’s. His girlfriend is horny, pretty and young, naked but for an anklet with chain linked to a ring on her toe. Her thighs are tattooed with flames. He says, “Wait one Goddamn minute,” goes out to test my card on a carton of Camels, beer and a convenience store rose. “YES, YES,” she shouts applauding his success. … Continue reading Being Me by Thomas Michael McDade→
Accidental Stowaway from Singapore, no papers or passport, surname unknown, Short-tailed Babbler, Japanese White-eye, Orange-bellied Flowerpecker, whoever you are, passing passerine, drawn to perch on a lifeboat winch by some crumb or flash of an earring as tugs yank the ship out into channel and two days later, in the South China Sea, you’re stuck too, nowhere to flee from here to horizon, as shown by forays of fluttering panic over the waves and back before exhaustion drowns you, little prisoner, condemned to be transported to a dirtier city, or if you hang on … Continue reading Accidental by Stephen Cushman→
Lover’s Quarrel 1 Because you cling like cigarette smoke, thin and acrid, in the brim of my hat, as if you know God lives on the addiction of our breath. 2 When the shadows finish wallpapering the bedroom, and the crows flock east with the traffic, is when. 3 How can I watch, in peace, the city bathe behind the sheer plastic shower curtain of the rain? My eyes towel off a nakedness not ours. 4 Because it’s late, and we know it will all expire, and I’ve programmed the wind, an oscillating fan, … Continue reading Lover’s Quarrel; At the Intersection by Stephen Hitchcock→
I’m all for book groups. In theory, at least. In practice, not so much. I’ve tried, but failed, several times to remain a member of one. I could argue (and I have) that this is because too many of these groups evolve into competitive-cooking, wine-swilling, salacious gossip sessions, but, actually, that’s the part I like. What I don’t like, I’ve discovered, is the book part. For me, there is something that happens to the whole experience of reading when it is done for the purpose of shared group discussion. It changes into something other: … Continue reading Resolution→
As Streetlight gets ready to go into our second year, it’s my sad duty to bid farewell to one of our editors and my glad duty to introduce two new editors. George Kamide, who has been on the staff since we went online last year leaves more than a small vacancy here. One can hardly overstate the contribution George has made, not only as fiction editor, but as a planner and facilitator of the website. His previous experience working on an online publication and his willingness to put in the extra effort made our … Continue reading Farewell and Hail→
Streetlight Magazine is going global. We are now pleased to be receiving readers and art submissions from abroad. Among them, are artists Fabio Sassi of Bologna, Italy and Eleanor Leonne Bennett of Manchester, England. Sassi has been a self-taught, visual artist since 1990. ”I’ve been influenced by Andy Warhol and the Pop Art movement, the Arte Povera (literally Poor Art) movement mixed with a bit of Wabi Sabi,” he says. Besides photography, Sassi also works in acrylics, stenciling on canvas, board or vinyl records. “I use the stencil technique and have cut more than 100 patterns. Recently, I am tending to use real … Continue reading Art Imports from Abroad→
[frame align=”right”][/frame]Here on the eve of a noisy election, I am experiencing what some have referred to as media fatigue. There was a song in the Sixties about “useless information” and lately I find myself talking back to the TV journalists, snarling at the screen, mouthing and mumbling like an adolescent at the back of the class. “So what?” and “Who cares?” Well, I do care, but right now I long for white space. In my life and on the page. I flip through travel brochures and stare at the photographs—the lost city of Petra, … Continue reading Are We There Yet?→
Hello, I am currently under threat of hurricane, and electrical power/internet access could be cut at any moment, so I will be brief: I recently attempted to write a short story in the form of the narrating character’s first-person blog. It was difficult, to say the least, largely because the narrator was a low-key software engineer approaching 30 and living in Maryland with his wife and child. The main difficulty came from the fact that this character was in no way realistically allowed to be verbose. He could have some wisdom, and make insightful observations … Continue reading Why Is Every “I” Also a Genius?→
This year, Poetry Magazine has been celebrating its one-hundredth birthday. It’s not unheard of for a magazine to last a hundred years, even in this country where things get old fast, but it’s still unusual enough to note. And for another reason: not only has Poetry been celebrating its birthday all year long by publishing notable poets from its past alongside the contemporary – it also has published an anthology. I got notice of this in the mail last week and so I pass on the news to anyone who might want to know about it. One … Continue reading One Hundred Years of Poetry→
Everett’s mother sobbed loudly as he stepped onto his front porch and let the storm door crash against the house. He had to get out of that house, though. It was all full of church people and casseroles. The neighbors, too, were all patting him on the back, asking how he was doing. And Pastor Samuel had the nerve to ask him, right in front of his mother, if he was still trying to get into Kent State after high school. “No,” he said. How could he now? He wandered over towards the railroad tracks … Continue reading Lost in Detroit by Kathryn Christian→
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