a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 162 Cypress Park Patio Night Seventeen shots loud and close. Elise runs through gate from back patio as car peels out. While on phone with 911 we hear the same gun one block down, ten more shots. Soon helicopter thuds rhythmic circles above, its spotlight [...]

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 161 Pacific Bird Trio Hawk soars in a royal circle above bluffs, gently descends, rises on sure wings, banks. Pelican unexpectedly majestic glides like a B52 bomber on still wings high above surf. Gulls flap and flap, flap and coast, herky-jerky fliers, low above water [...]

Well, I’m once again scrambling to get a ton of stuff done as we’re going out of town to visit my ailing GIL, but I hope the rest of you will take proper advantage of this bit of procrastination. 1. All wannabe fag hags, read this yesterday. Your future gay guy best friend will thank [...]

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 160 Red Follows Me Red moves his old bones, 100-year old arthrtitic dog, tumor-ridden, Climbs down portable stairs off our bed in the morning dark, and alone Of all our dogs, follows me to the kitchen, the bathroom, everywhere.

. a guest blogumn by Michael Gutenplan . [EDITOR'S NOTE: Ryan Dixon is in the midst of revamping and rethinking his blogumn and will be back in a few weeks. Til then we'll have a series of guest bloggers. Please give them tons of love!] FIERCELY ANTICIPATING The Cruise! A few months ago a friend [...]

1. I’ve never read Catcher in the Rye, and it took me quite awhile to admit to myself that though I’m shy, I’ll never be able to reclude like J.D. Salinger. Still, the idea of being able to do so has always struck me as really romantic, even after I found out that he was [...]

Alright, no one guessed correctly that yesterday’s lyric was from “Party Like a Rock Star” by Shop Boyz, so now it’s 70s or 80s Friday and we’re all tied up. This is for the win, folks! Yet another one hit wonder, but this song truly nailed future music trends. We hear the playback and it [...]

. Proof of Nerd ID by Charles Cron “IN THIS STYLE 10/6” EDITION The price of the Mad Hatter’s hat (£0.525 in 1865) adjusted for inflation would be roughly £40.55 today.

. a blogumn by Gudrun Cram-Drach What the heck is bechamel sauce anyway? A white sauce, I’m told. Does that mean it’s made of cream? What does it taste like? What do you use it for? Apparently, if you want my stepkids to eat cauliflower, you smother it in bechamel. As a new step-mom I’d [...]

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 159 Chasing My Own Tail Around My Own Head Sometimes I gotta slam the door on my own head, Take that de-elevator down into my body. That big fat head thinks it can figure out all the answers, but it can’t.