#ThrowbackThursday

We are excited to announce that Phoebe is beginning the process of digitally archiving past issues and will be posting them here and on Twitter via #ThrowbackThursday. We plan to re-publish work from past print issues once a week to promote the fantastic writing that’s been in our journal over the years and the amazing writers we’ve partnered with in the past. Click the images below to see what we’ve re-published from specific issues, or visit our #ThrowbackThursday blogroll to see our most recent re-publications.

The Carpenter

Peter Streckfus   The peacock is so extravagant His cry so open His form so forgiven God, what else could a man or woman            want than to be the blessed inhabitant Of such a body. To have milled the boards               for its housing.…

When Ronald Reagan Was a Boy

Issue 29.2 Fall 2000 Peter Streckfus   He found an abandoned motorcycle and brought it home. He tenderly rebuilt the engine with the help of Mr. Mertz, the old German bachelor who lived a mile down the way. In a month, it ran. Ron rode it to town as often as his parents would allow.…

Latest Left

Arielle Greenberg   In your wake, coffee grinds. Something black & oily inside a crank- box; something bean.  A germ. Germanic:  a rule book (“you don’t know what you’re like!”), a ruler. Cracked.  Germane:  the fear you left by the washer & dryer.  The pair of socks balled in my drawer.  (Last night, my panties…

In an S Chair/common book

In an S Chair/common book                                                              for Rob Arielle Greenberg Chapter 1 before we were quite in love one day you described a particular peculiar velvet…

The Place

Edward P. Jones   The moment she got word that they had gone, that it was safe to go up to the place and be with him, she set out. Mosell Cummings, who had lived near the place all his days and who had watched as they sauntered home, murmuring, had brought word to her…

Obesity

Jeff Baker   Long rain, the air unwieldy with worm-must, spring mush, apple- simmerings, a fishlip of moon waxing black, one star raveling its wick-light down to the flood-line, varicose gutters’ currents of offal— crushed butts, san-salt, leaf decay— dawn breaking through the tree line, robins like blood-stars scared up, branches finned, or seal-handed with…

In Fear of Spring

Jeff Baker   Please, not so soon. For now let me be simplified—no face, just a dull push of electricity descending the spine. What if I wake tomorrow to geese formationed for descent, or waddling out onto broken ice—or to robins with breasts like something gnawed open, pestering the ground for worms? How could the…

Key Food

Bernadette Mayer   alone at mischance I wish I were up on the ceiling the guidebook’s merry Avenue A dances with the city’s in emotion a raw stocking of old ground round who? what? is the refried beans Spanish or what the stolen mud cart across the descriptive clouds on how’d they erect that bulky…

Presentations of Fruit Stands in January

Bernadette Mayer   So called inauguration of 1981 Proposal of love from an inept suitor Pity poor instinctual America love all Wrong greedy mismatched middle class mates Is all doesnt need to be said at Liberty Meanwhile on the streets powerless in the funny Light a man named I Cant Remember Anything said I’m not…

Uneasy Planet

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Tony Grooms   Mr. Lawson was going on a binge. It would cost him 500 dollars and a 45k job, not counting the booze and the carry-out meals. He was single now and didn’t have to pay for rooms. When he went on binges, he had the girls, the women, come right up to his…
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