By Nancy Machlis Rechtman I weep for our countryAnd the promise ofWho we could beAnd should beShredded by craven acts of violenceAnd hatred. We get so close sometimesThere is still so much goodStruggling to overcomeThe purposeful divisionsThat keep us from…
By: Sterling Warner Leo seemed destined to become a body modification master. His peculiar interest in appearance started when he noticed his mother developing skin tags. “Hey mom,” Leo announced one afternoon. “After a bit of research, I bought some…
By: Shrey Verma A boy of twelve or thirteenMeanders the boisterous streets,Covered by a dirty and ripped shirtWhich leaves his body exposed to the worldLike his childhood to wretchedness.During the day,He blends surreptitiously into the crowdTo find pockets to pickAnd…
By: Lazarus Blue nostalgia In blue nostalgia—I am sinking,and I am nowhere to be found,I’ve descended in her deepnessand I keep on going down. darkness engulfs meas waters become colder,my lungs collapseunder my shoulders. but in obscurity there is groundpiercing…
By: Stephan Tashoff The Great Schism My bright side is in the morning light.When noon tolls,darkness encroaches the bordersof my soul.There is a March on the cornerof my greatness.Yet the smile from a flower’s stemcan send me weightless.There is a…
By: Carl Papa Palmer In my sister-in-law’s bathroom, sometime after midnight, unable to locate her light switch, I leave the door open for some visibility from a night lamp in the hall. Washing my hands and wishing I had my…
By: Charis Negley “Kit, come here, quick! Look!” Kit rushed to the window to find his girlfriend with her hands plastered to the glass like a little child. He removed her hands from the window, holding them in…
By: Umar YB LETTER TO MY HATER Take these words in a wayThat’s okay to youThey carry the truthI wish you knew:All waters and the winds,The constelletions afar,Greens, marines, mammals,And birds of all featherAnd I, love one another. My dear…
By: Alan Berger A mean drunk some of the timeA body and mind of loveliness most of the timeHer love will never be mine We all have our addictionsAll are sublimeSome we kickMost we can’t lickWhich is fineShe is mine…
By: Adam Lee Staying indoors How are we meant toescape from thoughtwhen all the activated portalshave shrunk and closedup like the ragged headsof flowers in a summer drought? We are like that wandering ghostwho struggles to re-enterthe locked, richly furnishedmansion…