Articles by VinylEditors

What I like best:
the crowd’s Pavlovian simmer. […]

I looked at my Aunt Sarah skin;
my stay out the sun-
You already an eclipse-face. […]

Brian wouldn’t stay dead,
days when we gathered together,
fingers forming triggers, […]

yester night, they bared their skins of everything,
of clothes & worries. from the crown of their head
to the sole of their feet, naked. two bodies, […]

Blood oranges taste the sweetest,
how they drip red down a chin without a cut, […]

Where the grass is tall enough to whip
and a mailbox covered with faded stickers
lies sideways in the gravel, roadside— […]

Certain odd little thrills: Speaking to the man behind the counter in between hiccups. […]