Monthly Archives: June 2011

Possessions by Philip Quinn

Posted on June 27, 2011 by urbangraffito Posted in Fiction, Writing | Leave a comment

One   John and Jospeh live in the corner house and run an internet porn site. They’re easy to get along with, sucking back beers and sharing joints when we close the street off for our annual summer party. Though when one of the neighbour’s kids dented their green BMW with his wagon they threatened to have his legs broken. Next to them, live this retired couple, Jay and Kat Baxter. Kat’s a large woman, with a cuss mouth, Jay’s … →

Doing God’s Work by Hal Niedzviecki

Posted on June 17, 2011 by urbangraffito Posted in Ephemera, Fiction, Video, Writing | Leave a comment

Throughout the 20th Century, theologians and philosophers bandied back and forth between themselves the ultimate question… Is God Dead? Well, who would have thought that a story from Hal Niedzviecki‘s book of short stories Look Down, This is Where it Must Have Happened  from City Lights (2011) would answer that very question using what we’ve come to expect of Niedzviecki’s transgressively black humour. It was read by Niedzviecki in Toronto, Ontario in April 2011. Niedzviecki first appeared in Urban Graffiti #3.

Two Short-Short Fictions by John C. Goodman

Posted on June 3, 2011 by urbangraffito Posted in Fiction, Writing | Leave a comment

Living at a Distance The fog had developed into a persistent cloying drizzle shrouding the Tim Horton’s at the corner of Duckworth and Prescott in St. John’s, Newfoundland and Labrador. A woman waited on the corner for the light to change. She looked weighed down, pudgy around the middle, arms hanging lifelessly at her sides, a purse dangling from one hand like a kite caught in a tree branch, straw-blonde hair matted wet from the mist.

Daniel Lanois’ Black Dub

Posted on June 2, 2011 by urbangraffito Posted in Compact Discs, Ephemera, Fresh Raw Cuts, Music, Video | Leave a comment

Oxygen by Kenneth Radu

Posted on June 1, 2011 by urbangraffito Posted in Fiction, Writing | Leave a comment

Oxygen   by Kenneth Radu   Some days the smell of flowers is nauseous. Don’t get me wrong. I am not a flower hating sort of guy. I’m not afraid to admire roses in a city park or plant marigolds for my mother who now dribbles into her bib at the Nursing home – try to hold your head up, mama, it makes the soup go down easier – it’s just that when confronted with a certain combination of floral … →