By: Alan Swyer On a Tuesday evening in March, after getting cold feet three days in a row, Darlene Cook finally made an announcement to her family while serving dinner. “As you all know,” she told her husband and two…
By Clark Zlotchew NOCTURNAL CONTEMPLATION Night. The smallest hour. I reach my ship and pause,before climbing the gangwayto the shadow-shrouded quarterdeck,the murky maw of the beast,before ensconcing my weary selfin the bowels of the behemoth. I inhale deeply.The fresh salt…
By: Dah They were driving Highway 1, heading south through San Diego. Figured they’d be crossing the border in thirty-minutes. It was late September, and the weather was hot. Luke was at the wheel and Abby rode shotgun. They…
By: Ruth Ticktin Just like every morning, Trish woke up before sunrise and walked down to the bay. That was her promise to herself, and to her family, to keep her sanity. But today it was getting cold and the…
By: GTimothy Gordon Bro’ Moment Outlier nesters filling up- and -out spring greens,chitalpa, spruce, willow curated street transplants,white-wing petite doves, thrashers, whiptails,each flat as a paten, tiny, tight clutch, solo-livingin deep time, sheathed-in-place, tasked by instinctto be watchful, patient, in…
By: Januário Esteves War word To the glorious dead in battleby the ego of the generalsrest in excrementof rotten bodies allthe silenced human vaingloryby concomitant ignorancethat goes beyond common sensethat should be the hallmarkof the human, of the superhumanthat forks…
By: Amrita Sharma A ‘screen’ may serve as a perfect sort,That may turn to a ‘simile’ by a poet’s craft,A greater may turn it to ‘metaphor’ still,And a superior to a ‘symbol’ that holds a thought,It may still form a…
By: Stanley Lovell WORDS ON PAPER Soft grinding sound of cheap plastic ballpoint pendragging through white pulp striated blue. Pen shuffles forward inky snail slimeletters stretch into pained words classic bread and butter only descriptionslack calories. Starting the day I…
By: Ram Govardhan Oh! My Dear Beirut,my heartfelt commiserations. The last time we met,about five summers ago,it was at the very seaportthat is in shambles now.Even the majestic naval base,has endured a generous jolt. I love your iron heart, dear.Yeah,…
By Eric P. Koch I scream and shout as I storm into battleThrough mud and field I run.Firing at the unseen “enemy”But enemy, no, that can’t possibly beFor they are all my brothers. I scream and shout as I storm…