Selections from the current issue
Table For Six Billion, Please:
Judy Wicks On Her Plan To Change The World, One Restaurant At A Time
Interview by David Kupfer
In 1983 Judy Wicks was living in a Philadelphia brownstone that she’d fought to save from mall developers in the 1970s — even committing civil disobedience at one point by lying down in front of a bulldozer. For ten years she’d been the manager and co-proprietor of Restaurant La Terrasse, but she wanted to own her own business, so she opened a neighborhood coffee-and-muffin shop on her brownstone’s first floor, which allowed her the added benefit of being closer to her young children.
Tell Me Something
Essay by Michelle Cacho-Negrete
On a shelf in my home I have my brother’s record albums, their covers worn with handling, sticky residue evidence of his fondness for candy. Johnny Mathis, Frankie Lyman, the Drifters, Martha and the Vandellas: “Oh, Jimmy Mack, when are you coming back?”
Essay by Louis E. Bourgeois
I was twenty-one years old and taking freshman composition, because I’d gotten a late start in college. I probably wouldn’t have gone to college at all if I hadn’t lost my left arm in a car accident at the age of nineteen.
Plus: Readers Write on Up All Night, poetry by Katrina Vandenberg, and Sunbeams
Favorite from the archives
From the December 1997 issue:
How To Find Him
Fiction by Ashley Walker
Begin to imagine him, wish for him. Keep it literary. . . . Decide that his gaze is heavy-lidded, shadowed, that he stares into deep distances. Make his mouth curly, so that even when he sneers you can imagine a kiss with tongues involved.
Erica Berkeley, an editorial associate at The Sun, loves this story because “it is filled with lines such as ‘Your brain is a safety-deposit box rented by a nutty relative,’ and ‘Write several poems about love, about him. Wish you were famous enough to stick your head in the oven.’”
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P.S. The poetics of the search
We periodically check Google Analytics to see how visitors are using The Sun’s website. This seemed a relatively dry, data-oriented task — until we noticed the inadvertent poetry lurking in the search terms. Below is this month’s harvest of phrases people used to find The Sun online, unedited save for order of appearance and a dash of punctuation.
The Poetics of the Search
the history of politics
the love of one’s country is a splendid thing
everybody wants to be free
everybody wants to dominate the world
the truth is we are all caught in a great economic system which is heartless
the whole show has been on fire from the word go
as one reads history, one is absolutely sickened not by the crimes the wicked have
committed, but by the punishments the good have inflicted
I should’ve stayed on the farm
the future is getting restless
stand up for what you believe in
speak into the microphone
lost fawn in my garden
bugs in the bathtub
spider that looks like a lint ball
old Underwood typewriter in Montreal
sound of silken slippers going downstairs and wooden shoes coming up
blondes aren’t very ticklish in the feet
apartments in Dixie
window drapes with flag, eagle, and tractor trailer on them
how to cultivate life dreams
how to keep chipmunks out of the sunflowers
how to get a Latina girlfriend
how to flip men
how to get back at a bully in my neighborhood
can a brother sexually attracted to his sister outgrow it without professional help?
can I pick my sailor up at the gate of the airport?
can meth stay in your nose?
do I stink?
do people go to prison for stealing from employer?
are you half as good a girl as your mother thinks you are?
history of last night:
no drinking till after five
waking up unable to breathe blacking out
wet the bed, embarrassed, alcohol
chemicals that could give you mutations and turn you into a dragon
animals from whom I have learned so much:
fireants in Buffalo, Wyoming
kittens with distended bellies
several generations of mice
telling the truth:
my boyfriend wets the bed
girlfriend has constant sniffing
me and my husband have orgies
child refuses to play with others at daycare
my eight year old has begun to steal
my dog has a twisted colon
my mom is seeing the sun too yellow after a stroke
symptoms: peg-like teeth, eczema, weak hair
rash from geraniums
my parents are aliens
needs of the dead:
one cigarette a day
plump virgin nudist
is the sun good for dreadlocks?
brief history of conversation:
the story that waited to be told
fading away like the stars in the morning
if you’re really listening, you’re awake to the poignant
messages from a magazine
to bless the space between us
Copyright ©2008, The Sun Publishing Company, Inc., 107 North Roberson Street, Chapel Hill, NC 27516.