By: James Bates I remember hearing the song by Three Dog Night, “One Is the Loneliest Number,” and thinking, Yeah, that’s me. All by myself. No one cares. Now I see that thought for what it really was, a cry…
By: Amrita Valan The mind is a repository, a church,A museum, a junk yardAn attic, a trunk,Stashed away with treasures, puzzlesGems, obsolete ciphers. I have been seeingThe tiny corner tableFrom early childhood todayWith the cumbrousBlack telephone atop. Recalling calls received…
By: S.M. Moore “my thoughts on an obituary” An elegance tends to possess the mindIn dismayI hear about the wind floating along the sea foamAnd how it brushes over the wave caps A woman says: my lover, my lifeYou have…
By: Dennis Vannatta Mid-winter this past year, I lost the ability to write. Of course, what you are presently reading is writing of a sort, but I’m here speaking of Writing with a capital W. The real stuff. The…
By: Suchoon Mo in the middle of the desertthere is a kingdom in the middle of the kingdomthere is a casino in the middle of the casinothere is a chapel in the middle of the chapelthere is a casket the…
By: Richard C Lin Legend has it that Dad was once a very different person. San Bo (third paternal elder uncle) shares tales of Dad as a skinny and mischievous scamp. Like the mythical Monkey King Sun Wukong, he would…
By: Dexter Alex Being locked away was the best part of being alive these days, I was kept sedated and restrained so I wouldn’t take my own life. I had tried, fractured my skull in the process but somehow they…
By: Alan Swyer Waking up in the morning, which had long been a joy for Ed Rubin, turned instead into a source of dread once Valerie, along with two other junior account execs, lost her job at an ad agency….
By: John E.C. for R.N. The reason? To heighten, within the populace, the fear and hatred of the perceived enemy’s threat, in order to increase the state’s authoritarian grip. A straight up and down Black Op job, of course….
By: Stephen Kingsnorth Jan – the anniversary of his death I doubt you’ve ever heard of him,mere footnote, nation’s history,a martyr, cold war, distant past,in black and white, even the flame,but I was adolescent then. Jan Palach, student, name burned…