By: S.D. Lavender After breakfast, before she left for work, Doris went into the living room of her suburban St. Louis home where her husband Milton sat on the couch in his kimono eating a bowl of Captain Crunch. “Honey, listen…
By: Zunayet Ahammed The night sky calls me To see her sapphire The deep dark forest requests me To be his bosom The lonely clouds offer me To soar very high In the naked heaven Only you don’t ask me…
By: Zunayet Ahammed Symphony is fading away afar Tigers in us bawling Seeing tube-roses weeping In the infertile land of spring. We visualize the pretensions and nakedness Of those so-called men who’ve gone “faludha” Now a days No rosy rain…
By: Indunil Madhusankha ABSTRACT Garlanded with universal appreciation, Anita Desai is one of the most distinguished Indo-English writers of the post-colonial era. Her contribution towards the contemporary Indian English novel has been well acclaimed by the far flung literary community both…
By: Susan Speranza Five years of memories for sale by owner. Better yet, free to a good home. I need to clean out the rooms of my life where joy once roamed and promises hung like sacred lanterns, guiding our way…
By: Michael Chin Rey Mysterio, five-foot-six, professional wrestling’s littlest star, presses his masked forehead to the forehead of children in the crowd on his way to the ring. He whispered to each one variations on the same message. Not words of…
By: Michael Chin The Ultimate Warrior used to run to the ring. Long hair waving behind him. Fist pumping. And I pumped my fist too. At the spectacle. At the intensity. At the explosion. Ten, fifteen years later, when he’d…
By: Wylie Strout Frankie and his mom peer through the den window as they hear a van starting up the driveway with “Excalibur Magic” printed on its side in large letters which glitter wildly in the sun’s rays. Long, stiff, tuxedoed legs…
Perceptions is a poetry collection that challenges many of our attitudes and values, showing us many of our concerns that grow more troubled in these difficult times. Here is what Gary Beck says about his poetry collection: Disasters of our…
By: F. Poussin Is it so wrong begging to follow the path of the berry so tender, so plump and so full of its nectar, as she sinks her pearls in the flesh delectable, so mysterious of many savors, born in…