By: Maya Nalawade The left side of my brain was nurtured with the sounds of Grandma’s Wagner records. The fluttering sounds of violins and booming hydes sinking Awe to the corners of the rooms. The echoes rippling through the Air….
By: Debraj Bhattacharya A worried DM The District Magistrate of district Ajeebpur, Mr. Hari Sachdev IAS, is a worried man. He has just received a letter that a high-profile delegation from UN is coming to see the present condition of…
By: Shilpa Rajagopal Purpose is a funny word deliberate and assuming what is your Purpose? they ask as if everyone is born knowing this fundamental truth, following a linear road as if there is singularity or absolutism to abstraction, to…
By: Kushal Poddar A Sonnet For Paradox’s Repeat Offender We skedaddle from remembrance and its strict policing, yet here we stand- midst a street of broken houses, holes for the walls. Memory’s widened its reach. We have souvenirs from the…
By: James Diaz Family Marry me to a piece of sky tar and feather my bones, Mother piece of paper my heart over the fire in your mouth brown hills rolling blue skies over the engine cooling madness of my…
By: Edward Lee SMOKE LOST IN THE AIR I feel the urge to start smoking, capture you in a tendril of smoke, hold you in my lungs, never exhale, poison myself for the sake of knowing you deeper, you who…
By: R.K.Singh TOMB OF UNBURIED DAYS While volcanoes rehearse to show their teeth lovers shouting from the well of the house wave broken condoms rather than broken trust conflate dissent on self-erasing slates and prove worse than the old oxen…
By: S.B Goncarova I know the language of the rain, she says. The gull beats her rain-stained wings as she hovers over the line between land and sea. She looks down into the water, searching for a fixed-point, but instead…
By: Dmitry Blizniuk Black wet treescarefullystep out of the curdled space.Unsteady black tusks.A crow flies down onto a branch and sticks to it,grows into the tree,enters it as if it were a black house,becomes its part, its fidgety organ,its restless…
By Mark Kodama I. The Poker Game I try not to think about what happened that day at Afton Canyon. Nobody here in Hadleysville ever talks about it. But today is the anniversary of the events. I am sure it…