Photo: Infrogmation of New Orleans, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia CommonsWikimedia Commons I drink a beer that tastes like lemons. The TV is loud. The man next to me, a stranger turned comrade in our mutual attack to get the attention of the bartender, is smiling. He...
After “Dear Arecelus” by Patrick Royal I wish I had thought of stealing literary fruitfrom dead writers’ houses, like plums, and slurpingat its meat and sweetness to expose their pits;instead, I spend an hour at Carousel Barin New Orleans nursing one glasswith ghosts...
“The Mutton Lane Inn entrance” by cotitoo is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0 I’m just after kissing you goodbye on Patrick Street and maybe it’s the lingering press of your lips on mine, or the pint rejuvenating the leftover buzz of last night, or the Amber...
