Wandering Boy, by Jim Gish—We did not have to turn off the radio. My father told the mechanics, Ron and Pete, that it had a burned out tube. They just nodded. They knew better.
If it Wasn’t for You, by Bill Ratner—I’d be a baby without skin, a parrot / without a little soap-shaped food cake, / a truck driver out of a job.
There’s No Such Thing as Writer’s Block, by Wendy Russ—Writer’s block. It’s that phrase we speak tremulously to explain why we aren’t writing or why what we are writing sounds like a page that fell out of a 13-year-old’s diary. It’s a concept that wraps up, in two words, every horrible insecurity we have as writers.