Easter Eggs (the calmest blue)

by Michael Dunaway

Originally published on August 1, 1999

dunked in your colors again and again and and again and i and i hold my own breath inside me and fight to keep my eyes closed curled into the tightest ball I suck at my own breast and cower against the vinegar and dye everywhere penetrating and the free air I breathe in my [...]

Me and Bill and the Long Road Back to Ithaca

by Michael Dunaway

Originally published on August 1, 1999

Started back for Ithaca to put my ramblin days to rest And pack up three long years I spent crashin town an uninvited guest The Georgia sun was shinin loud but a cloud it hung above me Cause that lady dropped her needles long ago – I doubt she ever     loved me Atlanta’s lights were [...]

But Is It Art?

by Michael Dunaway

Originally published on August 1, 1999

Art is a funny thing. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, one man’s Philip Glass is another man’s clanging cymbal, and one man’s bold new post-structuralist statement is another man’s chicken scratch on a canvas.

Scars of Sweet Paradise

reviewed by Michael Dunaway

Originally published on July 1, 1999

Janis [Joplin's] story is a thrilling, inspiring, and finally a heartbreaking one, and even with her flaws Echols is an excellent guide…

James Brown is Dead

by Michael Dunaway

Originally published on January 1, 1999

Michael Dunaway laments the death of rock-n-roll, notifying the next of kin that “James Brown is Dead”.