This Week at Atticus Review: A Note from the EIC
It’s a wet one here in Northern New Jersey. I’m writing this morning from a dark, dimly lit room, listening to Waits’ Rain Dogs next to two dogs reined in by the inclement weather, two dogs who’d much rather be wrestling in the waterlogged earth outside then lying restless on the dry couch next to me. Rain is one of dog’s first lessons in unfairness. Rain is the inner-torment-fallen-strawberry-ice-cream-cone.
We have a great week coming up at Atticus Review. More on that, and also this thought from poet Naomi Shihab Nye: “You are living in a poem.”
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