By Rex Bowman It’s early summer and I’m sitting on the couch, hurriedly flipping through the sports channels with an air of desperation, as if the pin has just fallen out of the grenade and I need to find it…
By: Emalisa Rose sky interrupted you were lightningi was the skyinterrupted moments beforewe made rain. ### double shot Joe gives me a good pourthe goose with a lemon twistfive big blooming olives he loves how i flirt withhis parrot eyes..a…
By: Fabrice Poussin Beyond the abyss It is a leap of faith above infinite spaceDarkness below to another dangerLooking up to the azure of a peaceful realmWhat lies beyond a dreamed yet feared. From a desert land burning with numbing…
By Divya Dubey The Anatomy of Choice by Harshali Singh is the story of Bhavya Sharma, the second offspring of the Sharma family that inhabits a large historical haveli near Chandni Chowk in Delhi, with its mysterious mausoleum. This is…
By Stephen Kingsnorth Passing Phase They built, to fill, sarcophagi,but groundsmen dug soiled body holesfor reasons cutting maintenance,when time to face the passing phase;obsolete in necropolisso shelter found in holy place,then ossuary for later bonesto save some space, babushka dolls….
By: T R Bates All summer long I’ve been waitingFor the asters to bloom again.I don’t know exactly why,Maybe because they areThe last field flowers of the year,The last flowers Barbara and I saw togetherAlong with all the visiting bees…
By: Wole Oyeboade Boasting Bees You sting us at worshipAnd scatter us in lordshipYou fly away into hideoutReactions , regrets, reigned for daysYou insurgent beesHums hums hums Boasting bees, the more the painThe much the gainYou sting banks and parksYou…
By: Kenya Jimenez Mother Nature My eyes love watching the lavish pink sunsets withpatches of purple, but I truly fall in love at nightgazing at the bright stars and crescent white moon.I listen to the sound of the ocean waves…
By: Pijush Kanti Deb A Straight Street Action and reactionblowwhispering and counter whispering,blastshouting and retaliated shoutingandgive birth to a universal realisationof the value of life and timetillthe construction of a Straight Street,polishedby the sweetness of eloquenceandhardenedby the goodness ofgifts, rewards…
By: Connor Orrico Language languishes like the ballet dancerin penché as lights turn off on stage;I have exhausted its nourishment and am leftwith the bitterness of bromide in my mouth.