By: Suman Mondal When the Rain Recites Imagine I arrive at your home, crawlingthrough the damp monsoon night –petrichor rising from shriveled grasses,musky pungent drifts in the air,and you shedding teardrops. The sonorous sounds of rain,velvety muddy fields,suffused with your…
By: Ethan Goffman Way back in 2008, I began a string of wrong predictions by boldly stating that Obama could not win because the American people just weren’t ready for a Black man to be president. I followed that with…
By Kevin Armor Harris Sketch for a study of Egyptian mummies Huddle of supines, dimly lit, any motion ever now forever smothered. Surely there can be no escape. Embalmers with their hands on time have sealed all promise, bodies and…
By: Eliza Mimski She was born.The uterus opened.She cried.She cried.She grew.She took steps.She threw tantrums.She stomped her feet.She entered school.She was bullied.She was made fun of.She cried.She cried.She was adolescence.Her knees knocked.Her teeth came in crooked.Her tiny breasts formed.They weren’t…
By Bruce Levine The last flight had taken off, or at least they thought it had. For Greg and Larry it was up to themselves to fend for themselves. They’d taken on the challenge because the reward offered was so…
By: Torsaa Emmauel Oryiman Stepping into the university as a fresh undergraduate was both exciting and terrifying. From the moment I gained admission through JAMB, my mind was filled with dreams of academic excellence. I had made a firm decision…
By: Philipp Ammon Condemnation Cleese is a racistJust as TrumpEvilAn old white man CommunionJoinTwo minutesHate FindThe racistThe sexistThe ageistThe ableistThe bigot Find the foeHe isEverywhere He isHideousDeviousHe won’t tellHe isYou know Find the crimeMake the conjunctionFind the linkThe link existsDig…
By: Don Tassone One Saturday morning, I was working in my garage when I felt funny and had to sit down. As I looked around, my son’s dusty bike in the corner caught my eye. Then somehow it was…
By: Yucheng Tao Today, the museum closes its doors early,waiting;how much of the night’s bleaknessseeps into it, enjoying the dark corridors.The Indian tents with pointed frames,like spears of bone, stand piercedin the empty lobby, lonely,waiting;how the winter wind cuts through…
By: Joey Bender I was alone, sad, and bored when a message from her came. I knew I shouldn’t reply—I didn’t really like her all that much, and I’m pretty sure she felt the same. But it was good enough;…