MAY 2009


By Josh Olsen, Feb 28, 2009

Lucky, the Siberian Husky, was a beautiful dog and a racist.

“Suspicious of coloreds,” was how her master, Mr. Johnson, had phrased it, “by instinct!”

I heard Lucky barking at the mailman from inside her house, but, then again, that’s what all the dogs on the street did, so who really knew which dogs were just being dogs and which were bigots.

“How’s it going?” I said to the mailman as he handed me an impressive stack of bills.

“Fucking dogs!” he responded, then moved on to the next house, and a hyperactive Airedale named Zeus.

Why Complicate Things?
By Josh Olsen, Mar 28, 2009

“How’s the wife and baby?” Mr. Johnson asked while walking his dog. “Doing well,” I said, “doing well.” Granted, my youngest, Jack, was almost five, and KT and I weren’t married, but why complicate things, I thought, and proceeded to drag our garbage cans up the driveway.

You can read more of Josh Olsen’s poetry and stories at