‘By Peter Magliocco The Heat of the Mad Dogs Cripple me not, wild child, like a booted bagWhirling through the spin cycle of timeDrying out the husk of me.I saw you enough times come throughThe Vegas airport in the late…
By Therese Gilardi Luminous days had come to Rome. The reach of the Empire was expanding, and the conquest of Britain was well under way. A Colosseum was rising, where there would be gladiator fights and mock sea battles….
By: Todd Matson Words had been weaponized against him. “Nobody likes you.” “You’re ugly.” “You’re annoying.” You’re a moron.” “You’re a loser.” “You were born by mistake.” “You’re weird.” “Everyone hates you.” “I wish you were dead.” “Just die, no…
By: Debra N. Diener American democracy is lauded as structurally solid, composed of three strong equal governmental branches balancing and supporting each other for the good of the country. The fallacy of that assumption repeatedly emerged over these past four…
By: Debra N. Diener I’m suddenly stabbed in the top of my right foot. Simultaneously, I yelp in pain, look down at my foot and could swear I hear someone cackling like a storybook witch right above me. Blood is…
By: Duane L. Herrmann The middle aged man was still glad to be divorced. The shrill screaming of his wife was beginning to fade away, but not the memory. He didn’t miss her except for one thing: the Apple…
By: Jason Visconti A Confusion Of Streetlights Houdini leaves his trick puzzling at the cross,The merry-go-round of light has found a wheel,A stray wheel jerked through miles tended to or lost,Red and green soldiers who’ve strayed from their field,The players…
By: Ram Govardhan Nudging six feet, one the most rational eunuchs in Chennai, Rafael, while tucking pleats of his sari below the jewelled navel, was too careful not to hide the punch-line under the elaborate Cupid tattoo—naked winged boy with…
By: Ethan Goffman Help, I am a human trapped within the body of a human! Is this body my identity?I didn’t choose it. Did it choose me?Without me it lacks agency.Without it, I can never simply be.Yet who’s this “I,”…
By: Sheila Henry MyInner Lifeblossoms onpages andcreativity spreads openlike buddingflowers on a Spring morn In humility I sharesecrets of myselfmy feelings and emotionsof doubts of fearsof achievements of daresbeing comforted by thestrokes of my pen I bare my soul on…