Stephen Zelnick moves from Oliver Goldsmith’s exuberant comic theatre to the fierce, changing poetic voice of Alfonsina Storni and the restless, formally inventive verse of Thomas Hardy. With wit, close reading and a keen ear for language and performance, these essays place each writer within the pressures of their time — love and marriage, social convention, gender, faith, war and mortality — while exploring how voice, form and imagination transform lived experience into enduring art.
Three writers from the early years of The Linnet’s Wings approach love, art and companionship from very different directions. Nonnie Augustine imagines a shared life made beautiful by time and mutual care; Russell Bittner turns the coming of dawn into an intricate, passionate argument for desire; and Martin Heavisides celebrates the unruly theatrical imagination of Peter Barnes. Together, the pieces retain the warmth, wit and willingness to take risks that helped shape the magazine’s beginnings.
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Across five exuberant sonnets, Russell Bittner turns the coming of dawn into an elaborate argument for desire. Doves, stars, moon, sun and hill are recruited into a witty, formally playful courtship in which arithmetic, prudence and passing time are repeatedly challenged by the sheer appetite to love, risk and delight.. |
Martin Heavisides makes an impassioned case for Peter Barnes as one of the great, insufficiently recognised comic dramatists of the modern stage. Moving through The Ruling Class, Laughter!, Red Noses, Dreaming and Barnes’s shorter works, he celebrates a theatre of extravagant invention in which comedy confronts cruelty, hierarchy, death and received wisdom without surrendering its delight in human possibility. |
“In Time” by Nonnie Augustine imagines a shared future built not from perfection, but from beauty, wear and mutual care. From a rain-sheltered café in Montmartre, the speaker looks ahead to chipped porcelain, faded carpets, Mozart in an ageing car and two lives learning to steady one another. Tender and quietly assured, the poem finds enduring love in the graceful acceptance of time. |
These poems move through memory, love, grief and the lingering presence of the past. Tom Sheehan finds a mother’s labour and affection still held in the worn surface of an old dough board, while Kristine Jensen traces the damage of an angry thought and the longing to recover what has been lost. Iain C. Smith’s Mates reflects on friendship, sudden death and the preciousness of the time still granted to us, and Pipedream returns through storm, smoke and remembered domestic detail to childhood, family tensions and an earlier world. Together, the poems show how ordinary objects, gestures and moments can carry whole lives within them.
These stories explore the lasting consequences of experience, and the ways memory, history and human relationships shape the lives that follow. In *DPP v Morgan, 1975*, Parineeta revisits violence, consent and the law through a woman forced to confront a traumatic past. Joseph Giordano’s *I’m a Jellyroll* moves through divided and reunited Germany, displacement and political history, finding in music the possibility of connection between two people shaped by very different losses. M.E. McMullen’s *Souvenirs You Never Lose* turns broken relationships and accumulated disappointments into darkly comic territory, where old wounds are carried alongside friendship, resentment and absurdity. Together, the stories consider the scars people inherit or acquire—and the complicated ways they endure, remember and begin again.
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In *Souvenirs You Never Lose*, M.E. McMullen turns heartbreak, failed relationships and everyday humiliation into a sharply comic meditation on the scars people carry with them. Through the long-suffering friendship of Miles and Dodds, the story moves from lost girlfriends and ruined marriages to vanished pancake houses, blocked roads and one spectacular battle with a plastic sawhorse. Beneath the absurdity lies something more tender: the recognition that old hurts rarely disappear completely, and that friendship, humour and self-mockery are sometimes the best ways of learning to live with them. |
In *DPP v Morgan, 1975*, Parineeta revisits a landmark British rape case through the imagined perspective of the woman at its centre. Moving between memory, marriage, violence and the courtroom, the story examines the devastating consequences of a legal culture in which a man’s claimed belief in consent could outweigh the reality of a woman’s refusal. By placing personal experience alongside legal history, Parineeta turns a famous judgment into an intimate exploration of trauma, power and the long afterlife of injustice. |
In I’m a Jellyroll, Joseph Giordano brings together memory, political history, displacement and music through the meeting of an East German musician and a Kurdish singer in Dresden. The story moves through the divided and reunited Germany, family loss and the uneasy consequences of political change, while playfully invoking the enduring legend that John F. Kennedy’s famous declaration, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” made him sound as though he had called himself a jelly doughnut. Beneath its humour lies a story about people uprooted by history and the possibility of finding connection, identity and a new beginning through music. |
Paul Hostovsky’s poems “Aubade” and “Romantic” bring wit, warmth and a wry eye to everyday experience: one turns sunrise into a comic drama of exuberance and indifference, while the other follows the irresistible pull of poetry, beauty and romantic impulse. Paired with a selection of original artwork from The Linnet’s Wings’ 2013 archive, the display brings together poetry and image in a lively celebration of imagination, observation and the small moments that unsettle ordinary life.
These four poems move through imagination, memory, childhood and transformation, each finding something luminous beneath the surface of ordinary experience. From the sea-bound fellowship of *The Melody and the Song*, through Evie Robillard’s tender glimpses of children growing toward an unknowable future, to Maria Isakova Bennett’s richly tactile meditation on pigment, art and the body, the poems are linked by a sense of passage. Seasons turn, children change, journeys continue, and colour, story and human connection become ways of carrying experience forward.
These three stories move through dream, memory, and family inheritance, each finding strangeness inside the ordinary. David G. Schwartz’s playful surrealism follows animal wisdom and dream logic into a world of ravens, dogs, dawns, berries, parachutes, and elephants. Beside it, Biswas writes a quiet magical-realist piece that returns a woman to the living power of books and stories, and Bill Frank Robinson’s “Grandma’s Story” roots the gathering in oral family history, where circus roads, prizefighting, early cars, love, loss, and rough humour become part of the Archie family chronicle. Together, the pieces celebrate storytelling as wonder, recovery, and remembrance.
Three works confront the pressures that silence people: guilt and the search for redemption, the double-edged longing for flight and freedom, and the struggle for safety and dignity in the face of hostility. Harris, Walters and Taillefer turn fear, vulnerability and human experience into voices that insist on being heard.
A summer gathering of fiction and essay from Dan MacIsaac, Adam Kluger, and Stephen Zelnick: three pieces that move through story, character, comic unease, and literary discovery, ending with the music and force of Rubén Darío’s New World imagination.
Two sharply different stories explore the uneasy claims of the past. In Margrét Helgadóttir’s The Pact, Tuva returns to her family’s abandoned tivoli in a remote mountain clearing and discovers that an old bargain with the mysterious grey people is more than folklore. Alex Braverman’s Mozart and I moves through musical parody, dark comedy and Holocaust-shadowed family memory to examine fathers and sons, artistic inheritance, expectation, and the impossible demand that art should answer history.
Four poems explore the ways ordinary things hold what time threatens to take from us. Kathleen Cassen Mickelson finds inheritance, unease and tenderness in a first attempt at preserving summer, then turns to a snowy Minnesota morning where moonlight, crows, an old dog and a loved one make the everyday feel like prayer. James Graham writes from the harder country of bereavement: confronting the blunt material fact of ash before poetry can return, and later discovering that memory can quietly repopulate an empty house with a familiar voice, a glance and a consoling ghost.

Three hundred years after Jonathan Swift published Gulliver's Travels, his questions about power, citizenship and the individual remain remarkably familiar. As America marks 250 years of independence, we revisit Stephen Zelnick's essay, Dwindling: the Shrinking Citizen.
As soon as the coin
in the coffer rings,
a soul from
purgatory springs.

Step into a spellbinding All Hallows' Eve where music transcends the living and the dead. Requiem to the Forgotten is an enchanting tale of spectral orchestras, legendary composers, and the undeniable power of melody. From Liszt’s haunting sonnet to Freddie Mercury’s dazzling entrance, the stage is set for a concert unlike any other—complete with witches on bicycles, a poetic tribute to lost souls, and a surprise appearance by Death itself.
Mari Fitzpatrick's richly imagined story blends humor, reverence, and a touch of the supernatural, inviting listeners to reflect on the timeless connection between art and the human spirit. Whether you’re a fan of classical music, theatrical storytelling, or eerie yet heartwarming tales, this podcast will leave you spellbound.
Tune in to experience an unforgettable night where the echoes of the past resonate with the living.
A long-dead frontier woman continues to watch over the family, her fierce history lingering in a portrait that unsettles the children.
Barry Charman’s Lock of Hair is a quiet, affecting poem about grief, memory and the small objects that hold the presence of someone lost, where a single lock of hair becomes an intimate reminder of love and absence.
Kathleen Cassen Mickelson’s How Winter Reduces Me reflects on ageing, an emptying home and the shrinking orbit of daily life, as snow, memory and an elderly dog sharpen the speaker’s longing for children, companionship and former vitality.
Margot Brown's It is a year today returns to Hardings Beach and a last picnic, where tide, gulls, memory and silence hold the shape of grief.
Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s “Memory” and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “The Rainy Day” explore memory, grief, endurance and the quiet persistence of hope.
Sheehan’s Lily Pond remembers Saugus, Massachusetts through winter hockey, summer swims, vanished shorelines, old friends, childhood freedoms, and the enduring pull of a town carried forward in memory, loss, weather, work, love, and…