The Observer

Incandescent

June 1, 2011

Filed under Literary

By ADAM KAUFMAN Managing Editor Published: January 31, 2008 How much of life happens on holidays? On silent car trips with radios playing Christmas classics or Irish ballads? Or at dining room tables with wine glasses clinking and grandparents thinking of one more year   The kids are staying up l...

Fridays and Saturdays

May 31, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Brian Stong Contributing Writer Published: April 17, 2008 “You can’t help them if they don’t listen to you, that’s just the way it goes sometimes.  We know we have the best products, the best service and the best company overall, but if they don’t wanna listen to you, then they’re on their own.”  So went ...

When We Were Young

May 31, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Dominick Chiarenza Contributing Writer Published: April 17, 2008 When we were young, the stars and the galaxies were figments of our imaginations. We were told about them in class, we were left at our windows at night to ponder the Milky Way’s formation and the journey of the bright stars until they eventually became ...

Homeland Security

May 31, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Ron Spurga Contributing Writer Published: December 13, 2007 “Why am I so angry at you! Because you murdered my Father so you can get into My mom’s pants!” -from Richard McBeef, by Seung Cho, The Virginia Tech shooter   She was a 19 year-old Petite blonde he downloaded On the inter...

To The Author

May 31, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Cass DAUBENSPECK Literary Editor Published: December 13, 2007 I.   This is some kind of thank you, And from this distance, where no answer can come back, You will receive it best For you owe me no thing   But you were closer, once. You were a body in a dusty loft space A smell, a ...

The Getaway

May 31, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Ron Spurga Contributing Writer Published: December 13, 2007 I have a duffel bag Stashed under my bed In it cash, Lithuanian passport Grundig radio, and autographed Photograph of Jimmy Hoffa   The prez sez Not to worry Folds his arms across His Halloween cape And waits for the Sun ...

BUMS

May 30, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Anton Mapoy Contributing Writer Published: November 15, 2007 “And this is where Congress talks about laws.”  The woman has brown hair, worn in the same ponytail that my mom wears.  She has pearls around her neck, also like my mom. “Does anybody have any questions?” My mom is prettier, I think. Whe...

Ram Van Contemplation

May 30, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Quang D. Tran Contributing Writer Published: November 15, 2007 Sitting in a Ram Van is like sitting in a confessional—there are no secrets.  Discussion topics range from sexual escapades to religious conversions.  Random complaints and pseudo-philosophical rantings, combined with a loud radio, bumpy road and Manhatt...

Hiss

May 30, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Luke Teegarden Arts and Culture Editor Published: November 8, 2007 Graffiti artists that fix their work onto signposts tend to bend the bolts backward so that it’s impossible to get it off without a blowtorch and an industrial saw. In Brooklyn, the pieces stay up so long that eventually it’s just corroded metal and ...

In the Morning He Set His Course

May 30, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Peter Yacovacci Contributing Writer Published: November 8, 2007 In the morning he set his course, he set his belongings, he set his rod and reel, and he set sail. Each day, further into sea than the day before; deeper. He needed sharks not minnows. His mind inadvertently drawing parallels between these excursions and h...

The Mourning for the Unknown

May 29, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Michal Neria Contributing Writer Published: October 25, 2007 I am a cold-blooded killer who asks for forgiveness. It is salvation that I seek. The dead quiet of night, this noiseless noise, the emptiness is all that remains. It is in the beauty of silence that I try to find comfort, for my soul is burning. The joy ...

SEX

May 29, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Anton Mapoy Contributing Writer Published: October 25, 2007 It was mine. I found it under the tree. It was about the size of my hand. It was the color of milk. There were blue dots all over it. I found it and it’s mine. Maybe if I show it to Suzie, she’ll let me join her club. Last week I tried to join them....