At poetry galas celebrities parrot Rene Ricard while smacking their lips with leek vinaigrette, they wipe their faces with napkins now Our golden bards sell cosmetics and pose fresh for magazines now and soon you can watch a television show about the sex pistols on your couch, of all things, to keep them under…

It was after midnight when the knock came at the door. The sound didn’t faze Henry, but it should have. He’d been sitting in the same spot on the king-size bed for hours. The impression his body left on the white sheets looked solid, like fingers pressed into clay. “Yeah…

I saw Iceage for the first time this weekend, and my ears are still ringing. I didn’t know if I was going to get to this show. After Iceage cancelled the first leg of their U.S. …

During the past week, the threat of nuclear weapons has gone from being a bogeyman in the back of a closet to a full-blown reality that people have just begun to grasp. Especially those of younger generations. Unfortunately, so much is changing by the second in our current climate that…

“You’re gonna be here for a while,” the train conductor says. “We’re all gonna be here for a while. Anybody got any turkey-and-cranberry sandwiches?” We stand in the crowd on the platform, huddled against the cold wind. It is 40 degrees and dropping, and somebody is lying dead on the…

When will Vysotsky send us screaming out our whispers stumbling across the floor on our knees in absolute grace of seeing our faces in the reflection of a pool, sureness, unforgiving pursuit of bloodred yes, self, to dance without being sold as a marionette, Baryshnikov’s triumphant fist in the air of silent Kirov spinning, fetal, reaching, anguish of unstretched limbs, to run, to run wild and ungated

One day in mid-winter when I was in high school, I went out to lunch with my older sister and her college boyfriend. At some point, I mentioned to him that I liked to write, and he asked what writers I read. In those days, I would have never admitted…

My first record player was a hand-me-down, 1930's-style Crosley with built-in speakers. It was a hulking eyesore and it sounded lousy too, but it was mine. I was 14 when I took it home and set it on a too-small table next to my bookshelf. We became fast friends. I…