rob mclennan's blog

Two Agents We’re nothing but a dream of polar magnets, little ghost. Curtains could be painted or suddenly real. Brezhnev is coming, a...

Thirty-two years old, she managed the impossible: an unbroken length of apple peel, fit for the shoulder toss. She remembered the chorus her...

Firewheel Editions publishes books and chapbooks of poetry, prose poetry, cross-genre writing, and other hard-to-classify projects. Firew...

I saw a wave of birds, clenching and relaxing like the breath of an accordion. It lasted for miles. I didn’t tell anyone. I wished som...

My father liked a bad joke with a Japanese prisoner over a makeshift fire better than his own barrack. He never spoke of the celebrated Daib...