Welcome to Volume 2 of Cider Press Review (2001), courtesy of The Digital Project. In this volume of Cider Press Review, we revisit 2001,
When I say winter I mean a cold sweat, I mean shaking so hard I can’t get my key in the lock and loving
—For Reid I believe it was a deer in the rain-silver road— like a taste of metal on the tongue or at the
Heading east out of San Francisco up into the Central Valley—hours of road, though it looked like nothing on the airline map. Surfing the