By: Ryan Quinn Flanagan Catch Phrase It had taken many professionals to snare it.Many more to transport and care for the phrase. As it worked its way around the perimeter of the enclosure.Mapping out its new surroundings. After all its…
Still Life is a very popular painting genre that we have likely all seen at least once in our lives especially if you have an interest in art. What sets Still Life from other art forms is that the objects…
By: Leon Kortenkamp Pigeons and Prognostications in the Time of the Virus They toss breadcrumbs like gods dispensing blessings from on high. The pigeons dart after each carefully placed crumb, the lucky ones running up the sidewalk or onto the grass to…
By: Teagan Wood On a roadway, slick with mud, a woman – feet swollen from standing, hands burned from the sun, fingers painted with dirt – stands waiting. In the underbrush of a ditch, the silhouette of her form holds…
By Ramprasath Rengasamy I offered a ten-dollar note to a beggar, but he took it and threw it back on my face and walked away. It was like he slapped across my face. I woke up in shock and realized it was just a…
By: Ruth Z. Deming more perfect day cannot be imagined for when the former President retired to Mar-a-Lago on the Palm Beach barrier island with the Atlantic Ocean to the east and Florida’s Intracoastal Waterway to the west. The sea was calm, shimmering as…
By: Josh Brown ‘Coconut’ is a term used to denigrate someone as brown on the outside and white on the inside. “The Cocont Girl” is the second collection of poems from British born Punjabi poet Sunita Thind. BAME people born…
By: Chris Durand Night Sinking into now, Worries fall away, Soon to rest my head At the end of day. Moments of release Ebb away in peace. My heart softly beats. Consciousness retreats. Covers to my chin, Sleep is almost in. The world slips out of sight, Enveloped by…
By: Joan E. Cashin Love on the Road, or What I Did Not Want to Overhear A marriage proposal at the Hilton Hotelas I ate a salad at the next table in the restaurant: she said no.A screaming match at…
By: Matthew Borczon My anger Is for you not the horse you rode in on it’s for the lightning not the tree it dropped across the road and it’s not for the soldiers who killed and died in the war who still kill and die in my dreams no my anger is for the men who start wars in the first place and at me for believing that any good would come from it it’s for the kid I was who enlisted without a clue about the man the war would make out of me ### Graveyard shift Another sleepless night and I am on the internet looking at pictures of whales who appear to sleep standing up near the surface so they can get air they sleep only an hour or two a night as long as a ship doesn’t hit them and I wonder what their dreams are about as I remember that the origin of the term graveyard shift is from the times when the dead would sometimes wake back up inside the coffin so they would tie a string from their wrist to a bell and if it rang the worker on the graveyard shift would have to dig them back up from the ground and I never wonder about his dreams because I have spent ten years on the graveyard shift shovel in hand digging soldiers and Marines women and children out of the ground as Afghanistan rang in my ears. ### I was thinking this morning for Dana About the bones of the sun and the blank stare of our kitchen clock I am listening to Bob Dylan wondering if you can ever really truly be one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind as I am wishing I could swim across the surface of your coffee cup into the light in your eyes as I reach for your hand across the table it’s weight is heavy with everything you bring to our…