in this off-kilter, coming-of-age romantic comedy.Abbie, a twenty-something free spirit who is dreading her looming parent-mandated enrollment in graduate school, makes a semi-annual pilgrimage to visit her perfectly well meaning and perfectly boring grandfather, Henry. But Abbie is roused out of her quarter-life crisis when she meets her grandfather's persnickety, oddball friend, Johnson. With his cane and elderly clothing, he is the very picture of a bitter old man. The problem is, Johnson is 23 years old, and apparently completely delusional. Also a problem: Abbie is falling in love with him. The first novel from screenwriter Andrew Kevin Walker, OLD MAN JOHNSON is for the old (and young) at heart.Cover design by Kristen Radtke.Cover painting by Mark Allison.

    Featuring a beautifully diverse and inspirational set of voices from around the world, that includes some of today’s most influential modern poets, with additional contest winners chosen from 4,500 submissions, Crown Anthology is curated to be a light in the wild dark, illuminating the crown that exists in everyone.

    The author discusses, regret, anxiousness, racial issues, craving for love, and much more. Tavon gets deeply personal and introspective, in hopes of helping those who are in need of self-healing too. "Entrapped inside your Heart-shaped box For lonely years You’ve left me here To survive off hope and tears I know your return is unlikely Unlike me, You have a gift Of hurting others with a smile Luring your victims Into the traps of your eyes I enjoy this place Although it’s often cold It has pockets of warmth In your Heart-Shaped Box I’ll forever be stored Waiting for you Love me more Than August loves to storm."

    "Zubair Ahmed’s first poetry collection City of Rivers captures the reader’s heart from its first line to its last. These poems are reminders of poetry’s power to leave us breathless after immersing us in truths, both wonderful and painful." - ZYZZYVA"...his poems are brief and beautiful, with final lines (“The light source is somewhere beyond / The years of my life.”) that should be scratched onto padlocks locked to the Pont des Arts over the Seine.... City of Rivers is a treasure you would do well to read." - Artvoice"While I imagine one of the reasons readers might find themselves interested in City of Rivers will be due to Ahmed’s relatively young age, such readers will invariably find themselves more interested in exploring the range of his vision and the confidence he seems to have hammered into every one of his sharp, stoic lines.... Ahmed possesses a profound understanding of the nature all poets, young and old, share—he recognizes that the words are a dream, that they haunt the body, and their constant buzzing, their inability to give us solace, keep us moving." - The Rumpus"Honestly, I’ve not yet read a contemporary poet of his equal." - Chico News Review"...a startling first collection of poems..." - Shelf-Awareness"This unusually compact and consistent debut from an unusually young poet might get noticed first for that poet’s unusual migratory life... Such work looks back productively to the American Deep Image style of the 1960s, to James Wright and the young Robert Bly." - Publisher's Weekly"Any poet would hope for the kind of praise that glows from the back cover of Zubair Ahmed’s debut poetry collection, City of Rivers. “Bracingly original…ushered into being by a prodigious new voice in America poetry.” Add to that the fact that Ahmed is only twenty-five, that his first book was published by McSweeney’s, and you have a rising star certainly worth keeping an eye on. Because—high as the book jacket praise might be—Ahmed lives up to it." - Late Night LibraryWe used to play soccer in the monsoon rains.Through my windows, I can see acres of fields,Lying in the ruins of the wind.The poems in City of Rivers—the first full-length collection from 23-year-old wunderkind Zubair Ahmed—are clear and cool as a glass of water. Grounded in his childhood in Bangladesh, Ahmed’s spare, evocative poems cast a knowing eye on the wider world, telling us what it’s like to be displaced and replaced, relocated and dislocated. His poems are suffused with a graceful, mysterious pathos—and also with joy, humor, and longing—with the full range of human emotions. City of Rivers is a remarkable and precocious debut.

    In addition to all Cave's lyrics recorded with The Bad Seeds during this time, King Ink II includes several lyrics as yet unrecorded, as well as a number written for other artists and for the Wim Wenders films Faraway, So Close! and Until the End of the World. A short film treatment and a substantial essay on the subject of language and the Bible, "The Flesh Made Word, " are among further material which is not available elsewhere.

    The Blizzard Voices is based on the actual reminiscences of the survivors as recorded in documents from the time and written reminiscences from years later. Here are the haunting voices of the men and women who were teaching school, working the land, and tending the house when the storm arrived and changed their lives forever.

    The poet who drew such unusual attention has a surprising background: for many years he has worked for Brooks Brothers, a fact that lends particular nuance to the title of his collection. The Clerk's Tale pays homage not only to Chaucer but to the clerks' brotherhood of service in the mall, where "the light is bright and artificial, / yet not dissimilar to that found in a Gothic cathedral." The fifty poems in The Clerk's Tale are exquisitely restrained, shot through with a longing for permanence, from the quasi-monastic life of two salesmen at Brooks Brothers to the poignant lingering light of a Miami dusk to the weight of geography on an empty Minnesota farm. Gluck describes them as having "an effect I have never quite seen before, half cocktail party, half passion play . . . We do not expect virtuosity as the outward form of soul-making, nor do we associate generosity and humanity with such sophistication of means, such polished intelligence . . . Much life has gone into the making of this art, much patient craft."

    

    Gillett, Ph.D.• The Efficiency Expert by W. R. Thompson• Second Helpings by George R. R. Martin• Random Sample by Heidi Heyer• On Gaming by Dana Lombardy• Siblings by Larry Powell• Diabetes and Rockets by G. Harry Stine• Béisbol by Ben Bova• The Darkling Plain by P. M. Fergusson• Biolog: P. M. Fergusson by Jay Kay Klein• The Reference Library by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: Artifact by Gregory Benford by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: Cuckoo's Egg by C. J. Cherryh by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: Skinner by Richard S. McEnroe by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: Blood Music by Greg Bear by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: A Coming of Age by Timothy Zahn by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: Trumps of Doom by Roger Zelazny by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: The Fall of Winter by Jack C. Haldeman, II by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: The Time Travelers; A Science Fiction Quartet by Martin H. Greenberg and Robert Silverberg by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: The Hugo Winners, 1976-1979 by Isaac Asimov by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: Young Extraterrestrials by Isaac Asimov and Martin Greenberg and Charles Waugh by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: The Year's Best Science Fiction, Second Annual Collection by Gardner Dozois by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: The Future of Flight by Dean Ing and Leik Myrabo by Thomas A. Easton •   Review: Out of the Cradle: Exploring the Frontiers Beyond Earth by William K. Hartmann and Pamela Lee and Ron Miller by Thomas A. Easton • Brass Tacks by Stanley Schmidt• Analog: A Calendar of Upcoming Events by Anthony R. Lewis

    He is probably best known for his poems The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Kubla Khan, as well as his major prose work Biographia Literaria."

    In an effort to understand desire, beauty, and love as transient anodynes to metaphysical loneliness, he invokes Constantine Cavafy, Pablo Neruda, Anna Akhmatova, and Dante Rossetti.from “Jewel-Tongued”   The stillness of a lover’s mouth   assaulted me. I never wearied of anecdotes   on the Commons, gesturing until I scattered   myself into a luminance, shining over a city   of women. Was I less human or more? I hear still   my breathing echoing off their pillows. So many   eyes like crushed flowers. Our fingers splayed   over a bed’s edge. We were blown away.

    

    

    Alone in the Connecticut farmhouse that was once her mother's, Lucinda's life has become a small thing. Everything she wants or needs can be purchased online, and her only trips to the outside world are to the library or to the post office. It sometimes takes her days before she has the courage to venture past her front door, and even these excursions are sufficiently traumatic to induce blinding migraine headaches.Then, one hot morning in July, as she sits at her computer near the living-room window, a motion in the garden catches her eye. When she turns to look out, she is certain she must be hallucinating--for out there, admiring the overgrown flower beds, is a little girl in shorts and a T-shirt, her bare feet in outsize sneakers. She can't be real, Lucinda tells herself. But when she looks again, the little girl beckons to her to come outside. Bemused, curious, Lucinda gets up and goes outdoors to make the acquaintance of charmingly precocious nine-year-old Katanya Taylor who has, courtesy of the Fresh Air Fund, come from Harlem to spend two weeks with a host family. Taken with the girl's sweet-natured intelligence and generosity of spirit, Lucinda gradually, painfully finds herself drawn back into the world she left after her mother's death. Through Katanya, Lucinda re-examines her past, and gets answers to the questions that kept her locked inside herself and inside her mother's house for more than half her life.

    The poems deal with the impossibility of such an endeavor and celebrate our persistence in striving anyway.At its core, the collection is built around a very wise line from a Beatles song: I want to hold your hand. I want to hold your hand with no further expectations. I want to hold your hand instead of telling you I understand when I don’t. I want to hold your hand although we don’t always get along. I want to hold your hand despite the calluses, scratches, and scars that get in the way. I want to hold your hand knowing I’ll have to let it go one day.I just want to hold your hand.