STREET MUSICIAN By John Grey He plays some kind of distorted jazz on a saxophone dressed in a greasy gray t-shirt and baggy pants tied with string. A battered upturned cap sits on the sidewalk begging for coins. He fills the air with whatever notes his breath can blow and fingers corral as they clamp down on the buttons. Few stop to listen though an occasional passerby tosses loose change his way. On a busy shopping street, he’s the only one making art. He’s not the whole story. But he’s the only one telling it. Author bio: John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Homestead Review, Cape Rock and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Poem and Spoon River Poetry Review.
Single Fantasy (If I Was in N.Y.C. When I Was Pushing Five) By John Doyle Uncles and aunts in hopscotch pants emerge like sunflowers - from groaning narrow staircases in New York City apartments - (and I mean apartments, not "condos"). Outside are water hydrants where belly buttoned girls do the dance of the seven veils, and other little boys' uncles play mouth organs with dogs who look up in their faces like they're Saint Francis with all the animals gathered round him on that parchment in the church with the Irish priest called Fr. O'Malley, (I think), on the block where aunts carry groceries to their ballooning breasts in large paper bags normally only seen in cop shows late at night. And girls who dance the seven veils politely stop to pick-up fallen apples and run after aunts carrying large paper bags. In a cafe John and Yoko are watching and talk about using this scene for the cover of the album they will release as their follow-up to Double Fantasy Author bio: John Doyle, 42, is based in County Kildare, Ireland (when he's not travelling the cosmos in a stereotypical Volkswagen camper van), and has released two poetry collections so far A Stirring at Dusk in 2017 and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018. Among his loves are the Irish language, his girlfriend, Mod culture, and obscure Corsican hideaways in June; among his hates are people who cannot go 3 seconds without using the phrase "lol", and men who don't earn their right to have a beard. There's a strong chance he will be seen tonight near Ursa Minor, chewing on a bagel and talking gibberish.
! ! BOURGE-WISE CAT ! ! ISSUE 39: D
authoritarianism now wear plain clo
mind for a very long time until the
"parity co-exists with butterflies,
! CAST OF CATS ALI CAT/ALISON ROSS