2 Responses to “hard rain on a tin roof”
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conversations
- catching up with contributors: recent work from Amanda Miska
- recent poems from Devon Miller-Duggan
- Morphine. Gone for Good.
- Don’t Know Why. Slowdive.
- THE LIMIÑANAS featuring Peter Hook. Garden Of Love.
- John Maus. Do your best.
- Brian Jonestown Massacre. Just For Today.
- The Limiñanas. Salvation.
- Sean Rowe. I still miss someone.
- Donovan. Deep Peace.
- Steve Abbott. Long Haul on the Interstate.
- released today: the Worksongs for the Apocalypse issue
- editor’s love note for the new issue of PRJ
- Tricky. Aftermath.
- Super Preachers. Love Criminal (featuring Sista Moon).
- Sufjan Stevens. Should Have Known Better.
- Glorious. Foxes.
- Steve Abbott. Long Haul on the Interstate.
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tweets
- Remembering that time we gathered and published a collection of Worksongs for the Apocalypse. Thank you, everyone w… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 2 years ago
- RT @splitlipthemag: Hey friends! If you can't afford the $10 entry fee for our poetry contest, we'll have 13 FREE ENTRIES available on our… 3 years ago
- RT @katkadav: Such a great idea & opportunity from Sundress Pub twitter.com/SundressPub/st… 3 years ago
- @Vanessid Just had this conversation with a colleague today. 3 years ago
- RT @MaxDunbar1: The princess is in another castle: finally there is a Beckett video game (@3ammagazine) 3ammagazine.com/3am/beckett-vi… 3 years ago
- @sslonewriter I would welcome this kind of reach-back from writers. 3 years ago
- @akmiska Looks wonderful! 3 years ago
- "How could the body be an accident? * Heat. You started to seek it. The urge is a missile." (love this essay) t.co/Au0uzxhS5D 3 years ago
- @mylesdoespoems the rustling reeds along the shoreline of every river I've loved, and that's all of them, feet and… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 3 years ago
- @akmiska but the guy most likely said it way without the g 3 years ago
pea river journal 
I grew up about 10 min from Louisville, Kentucky. Oh dear god do I miss that place. Spring is just not the same here. It snowed today in East Lansing, MI. What I wouldn’t do for wet and green and hard rain on a tin roof.
Ghost stories about the mansions we went to on field trips (about how they put children in the third floor crate and the lonely black figure in the window died there) and the trailer park shit hole that was down a hill and across the railroad tracks where my best friend in girl scouts lived. Stories from old people about when the Ohio river flooded so badly they went from house to house in a canoe.
cigars and lizards and snakes and gentle handfuls and handfuls of praying mantus hatching all over my brothers desk after keeping a brown hollow pod inside over the winter we had to move outside. crawdads and aint aint a word… I forgot you.
oh nostalgia you win every time, now give me back I have to take an exam on nuclear and particle physics now.