Showing Results 11 - 15 of 15
Erika Stone’s photography frequently features odd juxtapositions. Here, the face of a woman on a huge advertisement painted on the brick wall of a tenement building provides a striking contrast with…
The refugees sat with their spoons halfway to their mouths, apparently listening with great seriousness, and trying with all their might not to burst into gales of laughter. The long, skinny lady left…
Apples. That’s what New Yorkers of the 1930s remember. Apples of the Hesperides, neatly stalled on corner after corner, sold on the last trembling line of decency by men who were unwilling to beg…
Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn’t you?
People’d call, say, “Beware doll, you’re bound to fall”
You thought they were all kiddin’ you
You used to…
The summer I was fifteen years old—just before my senior year in high school, for I had skipped grades—a new thing under the sun appeared in Brooklyn. Contact lenses. My parents made inquiries…