Articles by VinylEditors

It was the mid-1700s in south-central France. Something was killing their children.
It sprang out from tree-lines & stole them into shade. […]

For the mothers who cry the most and their
faces are crumpled flowers. For the fathers who suddenly
[…]

I keep running away, following
            highway lines, following yellow.
Years of Octobers wear thick […]

at the grocery store            the bagger’s sharp
white smile            his have a nice day […]

On Pico Island, whales nurse
off the coast. Each day,
a man climbs a tower and watches […]

It is good to make the most of being money. A coin in the palm never leaves the hand. […]

i feel the urge of my mother
married too soon
they set me out
on a path of men […]

A fly scribbles its orbit.
Sun through my eyelids

blood-orange, shocks of white on black, […]

I often wonder how my death will be staged.

In the fated            fatal            mise-en-scène—
will I be running? Will my hands […]

Afterward, we become
            our own security
systems.            Dress differently. […]