Vibe is located at 909 W. 23rd St. in Cedar Falls on the second floor of Bought again Books. Persons needing access accommodation should call 266-7115 by the day before the event. For more information, contact Jim O'Loughlin.
Now Available from
Final Thursday Press
Ghost Wars
Poetry by Vince Gotera
In Ghost Wars, Vince Gotera, Editor at the North American Review, brings together a career of poetic considerations about the experience of war and its aftermath in this timely chapbook. Denise Duhamel writes "The poems in Ghost Wars are the tickers off the bottom of CNN's screen pushing out of the TV and flourishing like vines in our living rooms." Allison Joseph notes "Lively, compassionate, and intelligent, the poems of Ghost Wars are a necessary balm for our uncertain national psyche."
Ghost Wars is a signed and numbered edition limited to 500 copies.
$5.00 32 pgs. 8 1/2 by 5 1/2
ISBN 0-9742764-0-5
Laugh. Damnit.
Poetry by Ahkos
Feeling pretentious? Walk away now. The poems in this collection target poetic self-importance with humor and a bit of an edge. Formed in (and in response to) Boston's open mic scene, "Laugh. Damnit." will make you smile, or else.
$1.00 16 pgs.
Bad Men
Microfiction by Jim O'Loughlin
Four short short stories that made their debut at the Final Thursday Reading Series. They weren't originally intended to be part of a collection; it just happened that way. Find out what happens to the lounge lizard, the ex-con, the slacker student, and the serial monogamist.
$2.00 18 pgs.
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from “Dragonflies”
Grant Tracey’s Parallel Lines and the Hockey Universe
Late last night Annie’s father left home.
He and his wife Mrs. Riordan had argued from the bedroom in gasps of contoured violence: sideways words, electric anger, and the shy awkward aftermath of suitcases shut with cramped clothes. Isaiah Sullivan heard it all from the living room couch, where he and Annie were watching Get Smart.
Now, Isaiah and Annie sat behind a round, block table at the Waterloo Public Library. Outside, rain fell in lanky lines the size of gray pencil streaks, and the seventeen-year old felt unsure of how to help Annie with her third-grade project on dragonflies. Every Saturday morning he drove her to the library to hand and read, and in the early afternoons they played Parcheesi and Easy Money in Annie’s basement, and then invited over a bunch of Waterloo Black Hawks to eat pizza rolls and watch Slap Shot. But this Saturday was different. Isaiah didn’t want to hear his teammates howling at the Hanson brothers. Instead, he just wanted to watch Annie scratch heavy lines into loose yellow paper.
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