
The Fells seen from Jack Flats A return to mist, to moss A return to trees, from time the animals that leave little tracks - abound forest punctuated by concrete veins never, not me my feet calloused from asphalt the birdsong- how much they say! When I can hear it When I can hear it there is that little gray animal I can see it, from my apartment the streetlights are silent yet the sun is on its last verse red and orange serenading gray fur then each tree resonated in turn by the end of today’s concert the squirrel beckons as the sky-orchestra darkens Today, yes, today A treading from streets, from concrete A treading to a fading and hoping sun and I will not tread alone "Floral Shoppe" by Macintosh Plus Album Review So, recombinator stretcher of nostalgia flurry of remembrances hazy-sunset leaping pixel-skyline spin, sputter, remember the call from concrete scratchy and slow flying between buildings time-adrift, decade-lost oriented never, to grasp: futile find nothing here look and it will collapse what wonderful enjoyment to be had from the absence of the past

Paul Kleiner is a writer of short fiction and poetry with a frequent focus on history, the human body, and queerness in society. Paul is a graduate of UMass Amherst, an alumn of the NITEO program at Boston University, and currently that friend who is never trusted with the aux cord.