By: Kousik Adhikari Generally the nocturnal birds begin their journey at this time When there is darkness at night, Nowadays I dedicate Some of my hours to watch them Sitting peacefully on my open rooftop, In the ancient easy chair of…
By William T. Hathaway Review of Crisis and Change Today By Peter Knapp and Alan J. Spector Knapp and Spector have written a superb introduction to Marxist thought, a much-needed one, since reading Marx can be a daunting task….
By: Ram Govardhan Beauty and brains seldom come together; that is, one rarely stumbles on a stunner with extraordinary intellect as opposed to ubiquitous plain looks with average wits. But, of all the deserving girls in town, such rarity befell…
By: Brian Vowels Iuliia sat and wept in the window seat of Row 25 on one of the almost daily Aeroflot flights from Guangzhou to Moscow. The airplane was, on the whole, empty and she had the entire row…
By: Miss Jenny “Honey, fetch all my shirts from mom”, said dad packing up his things. “Dad I don’t want you to go. Please stay with me. I need your support. Please don’t go abroad. Run your business here. Please…
By: Nadine Lockhart Jenny swerves into the Enchanted Villas, a small plot of land and what looked like outbuildings just north of Silver City, New Mexico, owned by a homely woman and her husband. The couple rent out small rooms…
By William T. Hathaway From the Book RADICAL PEACE: People Refusing War RADICAL PEACE is a collection of reports from peace activists in the USA, Europe, Iraq, and Afghanistan. An American exchange student in one of my courses here…
By: JD DeHart We should develop a matrix The business suit declares It is pristine white and unmarked Swiveling a chair half-circle Trying on the word matrix Like a new misunderstood hat.
By: JD DeHart We talked hours about Native American life Because I wanted to be one I had a whole book She even unearthed obsidian Arrowheads and gave it to me It rests in a plastic box upstairs Small memorial…
By: JD DeHart The first time I met Nabokov I only wanted to read him because I knew Lolita was tawdry, a reason Steeped in juvenile thought Quickly, I saw the poetic movement Finding his voice through transparent Embers of…