Column
As one of the many voices of this great city, Philadelphia Stories stands in solidarity with those in our community who’ve expressed their anger and sorrow about the continued violence committed against Black people and communities of color. Now is the time to end systemic racism in our country.
Non-Fiction
Philadelphia becomes a movie set when it rains. Neon slices through water droplets that crash against the dark street, tiny prisms spinning through the night.
Fiction
It was September, the beginning of a new school year, and I was having a snack in the teacher’s room when I was told about my parents’ accident.
Fiction
Sometimes I Need To Be Dragged
Steve hasn’t left his apartment in a week. The panic attack hit him while he was walking to the restaurant he works at over on 12th and Passyunk.
Poetry
Your kiss is a prayer to winding back roads, one block farms, and the river that connects us to Philly’s humble skyline.
Poetry
It can be dangerous to wake up in the morning. And go downstairs. Or back upstairs.
Poetry
My mother thinks she’s a saint. Her website promises spiritual guidance, thinner thighs and a cure for infected cuticles.
Poetry
Sometimes the first sip is enough: shadow ribboning into the depths, the casting of a spindly Giacometti striding-figure.
Poetry
The middle-of-the-night ride through the fogged-in hills, the way the road can’t help but follow. Curves the truth headlights try to defy.
Poetry
Take This Transmission For Instance
I have no vehicle for this T18 four-speed transmission Dana Model 300 transfer case.
Poetry
…Aleppo now runs a West Philly school hall an open channel of enameled stone, a gateway to deliverance