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I woke up to four missed calls from Zed. Before I could throw off the covers the phone rang again. “He’s not picking up, Felipé.” “It’s still early,” I said.

“It’s Mother’s Day,” Zed said.

MOTHER’S DAY BY STEPHEN KAHN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 86

Margot, this is bonfire night. I spent the entirety of last summer listening to my brother and fucking Skeeter McGavin talk about Tiffany Williams flashing her fucking tits and Max Ernst setting his ass on fire. Shit, if you had listened to those two you’d think they had died and gone to heaven that night.

WAITING FOR THE SIGN BY MAZI KAZEMI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 86

Nothing I write will ever be finished. 

SERVICE CALL BY GABRIELLE ESPOSITO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 85

You wore my hat and laughed as 

we walked home hand in hand.

LOVE AND PHILODENDRON BY PATRICK SEAMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83



I started to see some light.

CUSTOM HEADPHONES BY MATTHEW MEAGHER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81

Screw you, screw you. Bitch, bitch, bitch!

INSCREWABLE BY BEN UMAYAM 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 82

See if God is listening. 

INTERNAL VOICES BY TRAVIS COBB 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81

Can we talk?

CENTRAL PARK BY ETKIN CAMOGLU 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 30

Can we talk, at least, before you go? you say but I don’t, won’t answer. You can talk to yourself all you want when you get back to Brooklyn. I don’t care. Hell, you have two hands and an imagination plus the internet connection you steal from your landlord two floors down. Cheap motherfucker. You can do all the talking you want till you jerk yourself dead. I love you, you say.

Words are all we have.


The glimpses that we have of the intensely private Samuel Beckett from his friends reveal a man, a writer, driven by his commitment to words, not just any words, but words stripped bare, edited, and reduced, as if by doing this he could remove every inconsequential modifier and reveal meaning in its simplest form, the most direct form, without embellishment, without fluff. 

This isn’t a dance that breathes with an accordion playing through the night. 

If only it were beautiful like that…

DISSOCIATE BY MADELINE JAINA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 50

She captured the movement in still life.

ARTFUL BY KAREN BREMER MASUDA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81

Let life happen.


Let life happen to you regardless of the pain and so on but with its soaring joy, says Terry McDonell in The Accidental Life.  I find the most marvelous things in the everyday, the ordinary, the common, the simple.

Let life happen. Yeah let it be. And keep a look out for the joy, the glorious stuff. (No harm either in trying to make sense of it all.)

I don’t have to be on that bus.

THE ANDROID REBELLION BY NICOLAS GATTIG 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 53


The bus left at 10. I thought about something Steve had once said in an interview. Asked on camera if we would ever do Lollapalooza, he gave a smile full of plant teachers. “You know, 80 per cent of success is not showing up,” he said. “For the bullshit, that is.” 

when ginsberg was reading howl 

my mother was having me

GINSBERGIANS STREAM ON BY ANNETTA DEXTER SAWYER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 46

You know what your problem is? You are incapable of loving.

CRADLE BY CAROLINE GRIEGO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 47

Y’know, I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now. I think it is wonderful how you come every week. Some of them don’t have anyone y’know. The odd one on Mother’s Day or Christmas, but nothing regular. I just think it means the world to her. To know her boy’s there. Doing what’s right.