By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Field Trip Before masks and hand gel were commonplace,At a time when Internet was a science fiction trope,School districts chartered buses, bid kids to pack lunches,Sought “wild” adventures at free, public gathering places. One such quest…
By: Sanchari Dasgupta Deranged diagram of domestic violence Body pains and disagreements,shattered glass, pieces lying on the floor,you listen to rock songsand sleep on the bed while I,lie on the sofa curled up in a ballwishing that I lay on…
By: Sushant Thapa What do you cherishAfter tired steps?There is a retiring soulThat speaks oftenBefore it diminishes.Life is a ticking clock,I hear the strikeFrom the clock tower.I find myself a wayTo look out of theCalm window,But I see speedAnd the…
By: J.K. Durick Bookshelves It’s something the way they line upon the shelf, a bookcase filled withthem. Their titles and colors sittingthere quietly as if they are waitingfor someone to come over, pick oneof them up and open it and…
By: Bill Kamen Another day draws nearAgain, I fall back into the shadowsWith heart-filled tearsAlone in my shelter With curtains gapingThe outside emanatesAs I build absenceFrom the outside fates Years of building routinesSuddenly come undoneMeanwhile, my mind demeansFilling my head…
By: Neven Dužević On the river againMe and all the saintsOld ancestors and ancestorsOars and boatsFish and hooksOars and bowsMissing memoriesLove and fogTwo hundred to ace and cooksWhy did they drag the game out of the kitty?Belot and tarotChess on…
By: Pulkita Gnarl QuotesThings do not change; we change.―Henry David Thoreau We are like a blank slate filled with observationAnd squeezing of lime. I don’t think I am, a Knight.What is a life, a tale of an idiot and a…
By: Brian Michael Barbeito God Devil God Devil Bun and the Red House I have lost my bun. I am on a far path, more of game trail as they call it, than a people path, and I reach for…
By: John P. Drudge Pathways Keeping the secretsOf our ancestorsTapping the talesOf crumbling wallsTo the foundationOf our storiesThe pinnacleOf it allWhere we returnTo plants and soilWithout fanfareOr tributeIn particularlyOrdinary waysRising and fallingDown the windingPathwaysThrough the trees ### Ashore SomethingBroke me…