By: Benjamin Thorne Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Unwritten Poem Iblack ants scurryrandomly,ignoring my commands IIa sinking islandof white spacesubmergedin a white sea,a melting icebergof thought IIIthe poem is a pregnant pauseuncomfortably waitingto give birth IVpaper blossoms with salt-water…
By: Tim Suermondt The Day is Religious And an angel on the streetcalls for me to come down. “Don’t you mean come up?”“Just do it,” she says, the irritationin her voice can’t be hidden. I put on my shoes and…
By: Andal Srivatsan I Wonder What I’d Do If I Were Invisible For One Day In my head, I’d be a samaritan – take on exigent issues of the day,like poverty. The other day, I spotteda young girl in the…
By: Yoonwoo Lee I give something many volunteers cannot — the gift of being a big brother to third grader Yoo Sangho. Sangho doesn’t really like school, but he studies a lot. Eternally upbeat, he enjoys his life, as simple…
By: Steve Grogan “The Old Men” I’ll be one of them someday,the old men who wait on the lonely park bench. The October dust comesas Halloween breathes around them.Autumn glows on their shoulders. The old men sit therewaiting for something to…
By: Laura Stamps Guess what? Six months atmy new job, and I got araise. Wow. Love this state. Florida. Glad Imoved. Love my job. And my raise.Time to celebrate! A drive-in movie.We should go. Tonight. Me andHazel. What’s playing? Hazel…
By Tabussum Sumaiya I long for youLike the pinnacle of the mountain,That longs to reach the skyThe sun through the dense woodsTo meet the green,I will gently touch your skin. Like the setting sun,Longs to meet the moonThe waterfalls fall…
By Stephen Tillman “Not here!” Julie exclaimed as Mark held open the door of the restaurant. “It’s too fancy and too expensive. I’m not dressed for a place like this. You said it would be casual.” “Don’t you worry your…
By John RC Potter Let me tell you a story of a galon a doorin the back of a station wagonon her wayto the hospital,and how she ended up there. Becky had a freefall from grace,barrelling out the kitchen door;in…
By: Fran Schumer Some time ago, when I was a young mother, a woman in my neighborhood told me that every day at about 2 p.m., before her daughter came home from school, she would masturbate. If her husband,…