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Schultheiss Bierstube
123 words German translation here I look down, see there’s a new bank where the Schultheiss Bierstube was the summer of 1934. It was a place where Germans drank their märzen, pilsner, kölsch. The buzz...
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Die Schultheiss-Bierstube
121 words English original here Ich blicke herab, sehe es gibt da eine neue Bank, wo die Schultheiss Bierstube war, in jenem Sommer 1934. Es war ein Ort, wo Deutsche ihr Märzen, Pilsener und Kölsch...
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Caterpillar
108 words For fifteen days a caterpillar feeds on sorrel, selfheal, ragwort, mint, or privet. If a wasp mounts it and injects its larvae, they’ll prosper on its blood, and then gnaw through its...
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Leo Yankevich Wins the Counter-Currents H. P. Lovecraft Prize for Literature
225 words On Tuesday, March 22, 2016, the second Counter-Currents H. P. Lovecraft Prize for Literature was awarded to Leo Yankevich, who is widely regarded as one of the greatest living poets in the...
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The Counter-Currents 2016 FundraiserWhy We Support Counter-Currents
1,281 words Since our last update, we have had 5 donations ranging from $5 to $1,000 dollars, totaling $1,140. That brings our grand total to $43,713.94. This means that we are only $6,286.06 away...
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On the Passing of Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen 338 words My first encounter with a Leonard Cohen song was in October of 1982. I had invited a Polish exchange student to a party in my fraternity house room. He came with an acoustic...
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Veterans Hospital
84 words Some nights are never-ending hells for these old veterans in our care. We do not hand out pills, but shells, as out of battlefields they stare from over sixty years ago on far-off Guam or...
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“Rumour Mill”&“Wife”
176 words Rumour Mill Rumours may have reached you of my imminent demise. They’re largely true, the eyes of Don Quixote’s every love look down and almost see my flask of wine, beer, whisky, rum, fuel...
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Old South, 1932
88 words Old South, 1932 We would go down to watch the fishmongers gut the bream, father with hand on clutch, a barge with smoke and steam wed to our pickup dash, the sun bright on the river. Nettles...
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Owls
77 words The valley sinks into the mist; the yellow ring of the horizon eclipses the cornea of the sun; the ridge blooms purple on my wrist, fading, inimical and black. The earth exhales into the dusk,...
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Trump
78 words He was our boy back in ’16, but then he tomahawked Assad. Now, cucked, we want to vent our spleen at this man who is just a bawd. Putin is his pal no more, China his grinning faithful friend,...
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Céline
64 words Three pamphlets in which he spared none do not diminish my esteem. Rats in a stable are not horses. (How well he knew their beady eyes, steaming sewers and twisted knives!) The pamphlets are...
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The Pyramids of Detroit
71 words The silverfish climb walls and crawl the faded floors; eat peeled wallpaper, balls of lint in broken drawers; across veneer, find pairs of thick and chipped wenge legs, art deco chaise lounge...
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Wardrobe Restoration
99 words The art nouveau oak moulding, chipped and cracked, barely hanging from a rusty nail, begs restoration. Klimt’s young maids untacked, 1910 doors, the flailing clothing rail, fin de siècle...
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To Marcus Aurelius
150 words Good night, Marcus. Blow out the light and close your book. Where Ursa runs the stars’ alarm now fills the night. Heaven speaks to us in tongues, a barbarian’s fear-stricken shriek your Latin...
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Two New Poems
209 words Charlie Manson (1934–2017) 1. Well, Charlie Manson’s dead, just like poor Sharon Tate. Upon his wrinkled head above his eyes, the fate, of his tattooed Swastika is certain, after so, so many...
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Two New Poems
164 words To Apeneck Sweeney In what you write and ask I smell the reek of herring, matzo balls . . . Your task is subtle, almost daring, to feign to be a kook, “a white supremacist.” No random or...
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Mandarins
99 words These are not some low-caste untouchables washing their rags in the Ganges river. They leave their dirty underwear for fools to pick up, waiting for nuns to deliver fettuccine all’Alfredo,...
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Three Poems
246 words Pulp Fiction “I’m glad it’s going slowly” —Uma Thurman Weinstein, limp as a mullet, gets the smoke house oven. “You don’t deserve a bullet” says the starlet, lovin’ kisses on his shmok...
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Donny as Shakespeare
69 words A shithole is a shithole by any other name. Our minds are bright and wits full. We will not play the game, pretending not to mark boatloads of refugees, their faces savage, stark and eager for...
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