By: Alexander Kemp June 2014 We landed on Earth just after sunset. My two comrades and I adjusted to our new human forms. Our life forces were now tied to these fallible bodies. This was the last opportunity to…
By: A. Elizabeth Herting Once upon a time, I used to sleep. Dull sunlight trickled into his cell. It was painful; a single yellow beam straining to be seen through a tiny, grime-encrusted window. The shadows of the bars crept…
By: Atticus Ellis Naughty boy, your verse will do you badUnless you cloak the name that you once hadBehind a crafty pseudonym at once.Heed me, and don’t play the heroic dunce. Every stanza can be fraught with dire risk.You need…
By: Selina Whiteley Helix in B-Coil After Alan Ginsberg, “A Supermarket in California”Foucault, I see you, frail and gaunt, your pneumatic lungs,collapsing, as with rasped breaths you flirtwith that dark-haired paramedic.Do you not think of your Defert? We need him…
By: Sivaprasad. V The Outspoken They say it’s made in the HeavenMen tie the knot to make it happen on Earth.To the disciples of Comte it’s a permanent social legal contract.The society’s nod for sleeping together. A few are destined…
By: Ria Banerjee The vicious tentacles ofa fatal virusengirdles the world in alethal coil.The world gasps for breath,frantically choking, coughing andspewing out sputumand venom.It is a barricaded battle fieldof the living andthe dead.Or, perhaps of theliving dead.People go back and…
By: Michael Summerleigh Aaron looked around at the empty apartment…sunrise through naked windows setting newly-emancipated dust motes to dancing…a table and a chair…the laboured hum of the old refrigerator now reprieved from cooling anything at all… In the freezer was…
By: Fabrice B. Poussin Leftovers The select few in assembly had taken a huge biteof a feast destined to a multitude of destitutethose in rags who erred from scrap to crumblequietly, abandoned dogs of skin and bone. Incongruous bursts of…
By: Alan Berger We leave them to die It’s not their faultThey don’t have the toolsIn their head vaultsTo make a fine life In every cityThere they areHere they stayHere they comeWelcome to your paradiseWe would be rather gratefulIf you keep…
By: Jill Olson Clinking glasses intermingled with twitters of laughter. Bethany had put on a great spread for us to graze on, as we discussed this month’s book. The fire crackled, whispering its presence while coupled with the aroma of…