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Articles by John Gallaher
WSOP | Tournaments | Event Updates
Wednesday, October 27, 2021 10:45 PM Local Time (about 15 hours and 49 minutes ago) Brian Rast Wins Fifth Bracelet Event #51: $3,000 6-Handed No-Limit Hold’em ($474,102) Only a few dozen players returned for their chance at World Series of Poker gold and the top prize of $474,102 on Day 2 of Event #51: $3,000 6-Handed No-Limit Hold'em. By day's end, it was Brian Rast who conquered the field and claimed victory for his fifth WSOP gold bracelet at the Rio All-Suite Hotel and Casino.
Current Issue Sneak Peek
Order your own copy or download an electronic version for just $2 from our Purchase page. I Can't Stop by Jeannine Hall Gailey Being a person who looks for the dark side. Looking up crime statistics at Disneyland. Looking for monsters under the bed. Also, I can’t stop taking pictures of flowers even though mostly we have nine months of rain.
My Life in Brutalist Architecture #1 by John Gallaher - Poems | Academy of American Poets
Now the scene changes, we say, and the next few years are quiet. It’s another curse, the inverse of the “interesting times” the Chinese were said to go on so about. Nevertheless, there it is, as the emptiness needs a something in order to be defined as empty, which means we spend the next few years talking about other years, as if that’s what’s important. Maybe that is what’s important. It was terrible, the hospital stay. The children.
And the Moon on Its Stem Will Steal You Away by John Gallaher
That’s a good one, the idea of the moon having a stem and somehow stealing you, whoever you are, kind of like Persephone or Orpheus, portrayed or alluded to in countless forms of art and popular culture including poetry, film, opera, music, and painting. And it kind of fits my mood this morning, something vaguely cartoonish and devoid of real gravitas, but still, a kind of realism, even so.
"My Life in Brutalist Architecture #1" by John Gallaher
My neighbor to the left had a stroke a couple years ago. It didn’t look like he was going to make it, and then he made it. I’m watching him now from my window as he makes his slow way across his yard with some tree branches that fell in last night’s storm. Three steps. Wait. Three steps. It’s a hard slog. Watching, I want to pitch in. And we do, at such times, wanting to help. But on the other hand, it’s good to be as physical as possible in recovery. Maybe this is part of his rehab.
My Memories of 2016 As Scathing Reviews of Batman vs Superman ||| BOAAT
Look, up in the sky! Look what the culture is thinking of itself! Two orphans are up against it, ladies and gentlemen. And aren’t we all orphans in some way? Aren’t we all adopted? The illegal alien falls to earth in a ball of fire. The wealthy child watches again and again as his parents are murdered. We’ll stop there, as the rest is all about newspapers and money, the ability to fly and the metaphor of only falling. Night falls. Exterior.
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