Poetry
By: Snigdha Agrawal Moving: Simple because they can I asked Mafor a TV of my own,to watchWimbledon reruns,Netflix movies for teens.anything…just anythingto prevent from joiningcommunal watchingin the living roomwith familysimply coz.our tastes collide too oftenbut I saw her face stiffenbefore…
Poetry
By: James Aitchison (pantoum) poverty is a form of worshipfrankly my dear I don’t give a damnnipped by a dog my old dancing bearthe furrows of disbelief (under a red rose tree) frankly my dear I don’t give a damnwe…
Poetry
By: James Aitchison (After Alfred Lord Tennyson) Half a leg, half a leg,Half a leg onward,Moaning and rattling their chainsLimped the six zombies.“Forward, the Fright Brigade!Let’s feed on some corpses!”Hungry for human remainsLimped the six zombies. “Forward, the Fright Brigade!”Look,…
Fiction
By: Tim Boiteau While waiting in her unfinished kitchen for the coffee to percolate, Anna Debeer’s eyes tracked across the peeling corn-colored laminate countertop, over all the cardboard boxes brimming with gadgets and mugs and spices, when the dream she’d…
Poetry
By: Chanchal Kumar Das The Palace of Sleep All around, there is only discontent and hatred,People quarrel with people in uproar,Why have they not woken up yet?On all sides they have built a palace of sleep. Those who are truly…
Poetry
By: Jim Bates Orange sugar maplesBlazing against cold grey skiesLifts a mood to joy. Late fall woodland walkSoft and leafy decaySense of inner peace. Outside in the snowSoft flakes landing on my faceFeeling young at heart. Fresh snow transformingBrown ground…
Poetry
By: David Sapp For a While Now For a while nowToo long the shut-inTV my best buddyDoing little more thanShuffling to fetch the mailI get out for a bit andI’m astonished to findThe oak tree’s girthIs predicably thickerThe wheat has…
Fiction
By: Duane L Herrmann “How can we find people?” Tom asked. “We don’t have the key.” “But, we have the elements of the key, and you know them,” Sarah replied. “What do you mean?” “We have…
Essay
By: Eliza Mimski When I was writing my novel Sex, Love and Makeovers in the City of the Ancient Cougars, a novel about a make-believe South American town that hosted a beauty pageant for elderly women, I wanted to depict…
Poetry
By: Sushant Thapa Memory and Future The day is as brightAs the overloaded happiness.In your cityI lose track of time,Due to excessive delightEasily passing.The night was as brightAs the starlit path.In imagesI recollectThe wholesome memories.Forgetfulness becomes a crimeWhen a nodding…












