Florence by Billy Sedlmayr

Hometown evenings burn off into smoky haze. Rising uplike the Phoenix bird from its disengaged concrete tombs, setfree up and down these tiers by…

The Ranch by Billy Sedlmayr

We took April and drove it onto open road, / collapsed into each other, / one more betrayal, an admission I paid for and…

I Want to Tell You a Story by William B. Sedlmayr

A while back, a long while back, I had finished up fifteen months in CB 8, an isolation unit at Florence. Two guards came…
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