By: RC deWinter to know the place i can be sittingstill as a stonesilentthinking nothing in particular suddenly your shadowslips inside my mindmy flesh moistens and meltsinto a landscape of desire you wandermy hills and valleysevery so oftenbending to drop…
By: Pawel Markiewicz You must excuse me. You dear dreamer!I have overly felt my dreamery about Golden Fleece.I built my small paradise without any other ontological beings.I based the dreamiest sempiternity on tenderness of my wings.Thus. I painted my wings…
By: Mamta Dorbi A Tenant in the City of Rainbows I came, a tenant,In this city of rainbows,The sun rises here,At a circadian rhythm,With sumptuous shades unknown,At times glossy or aureate,At others prismatic or lucent,The flowers fragrant,With tints abundant. Grown…
By: Bill Kamen It was a warm summer night in LA, August ’69,A single night of infamy and psychic darkness for mankind.Sharon Tate was close to fulfilling her empty outcries,when the night burned its cloak in the sunrise. Earlier before…
By: Allison Futterman You come to my dorm room holding your pants in your right hand. In your left is an iron, and a jacket is crisply folded and draped over your arm. I realize this is your ROTC dress…
By: Roger G. Singer ANGELS AND DEVILS words and languagesfell to the groundlike autumn leaves we step around,staring downat what makes upour sentencesand thoughtsand thatof others,comparing,learning whatto avoid, or acceptas ownershippoints to thegood and bad,the hidden invisible,sheltered withinnow scattered forall…
By: K. A. Williams I work in returns at abig department store.The hours are longbut it’s never a bore. “I’d like a refund,”said the man with a bag.I pulled out the itemand scanned its tag. The computer searchedbut there was…
By: Ruth Z Deming She’d kept his photo at the bottom of her jewelry box, under her stunning wedding ring that bastard Stewart had given back, after the four children were grown. She took back her maiden name, Goodland, had…
By: Renea Di Bella ROSE There is a rose-colored light that lives in my body. It’s source set deep inside my pelvis,at the core of,the fruit of,the universe within me. When I think about this light, my mouth fills with…
By: Ananya Sahoo Dear diaryDear diary,Today, for the first time, it’s not about me – it’s about you.I was seven years old when you were placed in my arms, wrapped in bright green paper and a little bow on top.The…