By: Bruce Mundhenke Songs of Yesterday In Nogales we drank tequila,Sang songs we were meant to forget,Wandered the streets all nightTill the roosters crowed,Then crossed the border and slept.In the daytime we showered in truck stops,Slept on Mount Lemon at…
by Markiewicz Paweł If it becomes darkly in methe meek dream comes into being almost neverthe mind sleeps in the Darkthe night unfolds its wingsthe dreameries are dyingthey are jonesing for the lightsI-Apollo am kissing the nighttimeso that a blackness…
By: Ruth Z. Demming The following was broadcast on WDVR-FM, as are all sermons on the Delaware Valley Radio Network. “I ain’t gonna lie to you,” pronounced Pastor Art Washington. “We done lost seven of our parishioners to the coronavirus….
By: Sheila Vaccaro On a quiet, damp morning in Southeast Pennsylvania, a mother and her young son visit a two-block park at the edge of town. It is a hazy, earthy smelling square. Through the center of the park, tall…
By: T. R. Bates “My hands are warm,But my knuckles are cold,” Barbara announces.I tell her it’s because there’s no blood in your knuckles.This is an example of our conversation these days.Her world has shrunk and getting smaller.Observations are minutely…
By: Alessio Giussani and Sarah Waring “Can I ask you a personal question?” Although I barely know the work colleague sitting opposite me, something about this lunchtime moment on such a slender terrace encourages directness. Sharing viral downtime is still…
By: Shelby Stephenson SCAG BALLET My son covers his face streaking with grunge.He edges the leaning pole with the Scag.The lime and vines fall good and hard with sludgewhen he hits the clean path, a surprise packed into stretches of…
By William T. Hathaway Shiva is the deity of transcendence, the cosmic force that returns all matter and energy, all manifestation and activity, back to its Source. This return is the final stage of an evolutionary process that begins with…
By Rowan Wolf This collection of short stories by Gaither Stewart takes readers on a journey of the human drama; those questions that take us into and out of ourselves; those reflections that question time, history, our interactions with them…
By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey The day I was born terror had struck the city covered with charred smokefoul smell of roasted flesh and forms.Newly wedded couples shrunk in armsnot in ecstasy of joy but fear of terror. Bathing old man…