By: Black Edward The June cold had settled properly over Glen Norah. It crept through jackets and sat quietly in your bones. Along Kunzekweguta Road, the usual smell of burst sewage floated above the potholes and open drains. Most people…
By: Selena The Message I Never Sent I open your nameand let it stay unspoken.The cursor waits like it knows me,patient with everything I avoid.Every sentence I try to buildcollapses before becoming real.So I leave it unfinished,a silence shaped like…
By: James L Johnson Pedaling non-stop since nine this morninglunch on a rocky shorea shallow rocky section of the Lehigh Riverwhere a mile norththe Aquashicola Creekoffers its tribute to the greater flow. I dip my cloth headband in cold water,…
By: Paul Dickey Near the Creek / Childhood Sweethearts /The Poem that Made No Sense (I am just saying some words, and all of a sudden I amwriting this poem or starting up a new conversationyou know what it is…
By: Zunaira Rehman Identity is not what they call youit is what you answer to when no one is watching,it is not the version of youthat survives other people’s expectations.It is the versionthat exists when approval is no longer required….
By: Philip Graubart The Hamas delegate stepped to the podium. He wore a checkered Palestinian keffiyeh, tight black jeans, a Grateful Dead t-shirt and shiny white New Balance sneakers. He grinned, loving the attention. His fake Arab pronunciation was not…
By: Arvilla Fee This Land I know this land like the back of my handevery knobby knuckle that dips and swayslike hump-backed camels on the high ridge.I know brambly bushes thick with berriesthat stain my lips and fingers peacock-bluein the…
By: Goutam Roy Grant me another life, Oh God, a life beyond this one,where I may meet my beloved again and tell the unfinished tale—a tale of love, a tale of pain, born within a darkened room,where straw became my…
By Mark Salamon The soul, too, has its geometric center, and those wise enough not to search for it often find it all the same. The wound of initiation: at times something to conceal, at others an ornament, until one…
By: Don Tassone Ever since she was a little girl, Stella’s favorite movie was The Wizard of Oz. But her favorite part of that movie wasn’t the characters or costumes or special effects. It was its most famous line: …
