Hello and welcome to the 20th issue of The Brasilia Review. After five years we have surely moved house and home. Saudade, Brasil. We are now publishing from almost directly atop the San Andreas Fault, so good luck.
I’m this guy in California, out in San Mateo with the men and women selling bottled water and begonias at intersections. I’m selling a product, canned spasm. First time I cracked one open, I felt it ricochet in my belly and out the bellybutton like light shot from a conical flower if a flower shot light. Really it just made a funny sound. Canned spasm, making me ham it up loudly. You do big, you do, I explained it as, at a respectful distance from their car windows. Like watching, or… And then they checked out, like people often do when they sense some thing about me.
Past contributor, poet Darren C. Demaree has a new book out, A Fire Without Light. And he has another one called Two Towns Over coming later this year. Well done.
And now we present:
The Chinese at Pearl Harbor by Craig Loomis
“as if to demonstrate: this is what you do before putting your head underwater”
Old Taverns of New York by W. Harrison Bayles
“This they refused to do and forbade the whipper”
Silent Comedy by Matthew James Friday
“felt-tip side burns”
Old Loves by Henri Murger
Birth of a Housing Estate by Chris Palmer
“A mob of kangaroos takes to the air”
One Choice by Terese Pierre
“at the loge of / the world”
Emily Dickinson’s Dog by J.R. Solonche
“What a wonderful name”