Pete, Bob, and Robert

By Rose Aiello Morales Because in the beginning, there was suburbia and every house was the same. I was born, the placenta of ticky tacky, with Pete singing of the boxes, pastel past the point of home ownership, yards with swing sets and trampled dirt yards, Mothers saw their kids at meals or when the … Continue reading Pete, Bob, and Robert

The Poetry Reading

By Rose Aiello Morales Someone screamed for five minutes and no one applauded. One reader whispered curse words in several languages. Then they let in the clowns. One juggled several stanzas while riding a unicycle blindfolded, another stood stock still as a tear ran down his cheek, which drove the crowd wild. They threw sawdust … Continue reading The Poetry Reading