By: Dave Bachmann “Twain! Twain!” Miles pounded across the kitchen, a stampede of one, onto the balcony, gleefully crying, “Twain is coming!” I followed closely, similarly excited by the prospect of the California Coaster about to roar by…
By: Vaishnavi Singh FORBIDDEN CHILD Infants smiling at the vacant corners, eating and sleeping.Young boys feeling the death of an action figure, crying and being clingy.Girls draping dupattas on frocks, swirling freely and breaking their mother’s lipsticks.Infants grew into teenagers;Reading…
By: M.F. Nagel I am the color human Color me BlackColor me WhiteColor me Brown I am the color human Color me compassionColor me truthColor me justice Color me quiet voicesQuiet no more I amThe color human ### m.f. nagel…
By: Kimberth Obeso Adam and Eve Gentle lips bark my neckStalwart loin hugs me tightTongue over my chestApples on the face I sing the song of the bodyFeel its rhythmFeel its lyricsI am the bee who clings to the blossomSip…
By: Daniel Clark green shuttles, stolen glances bottles smashed intowalls where kneessmashed into headsmessages daubedin delible light –she shan’t be longthere’s a queuefor the ladies –I’ve never smiledfor fear of losing facebut as the glasscuts through my cheekas bone snaps…
By: Deekshita Athreya A shadow of darkness fills my gaze,As the nightly air patrols round,The once lovely countryside all in a hazeSo deathly a silence, my heartbeats resound. The moon appears to heal my wounded soul,Emerging as a ray of…
By: Dan O’Neill I’m now into gardeners You may remember me ,Mike O’Brien, actor extraordinaire.I finally won an Oscar for best actor in “Hit and Run”. In case you haven’t seen it ,I played Max Murphy,a serial hit and…
By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Of Kindly Men and Imagined Satanists Squiffy sorts, who eat popcorn as a snack, who forget to take daily constitutionals,Are often gobsmacked over limitedly palatable, scintillating, “highbrow” dialogue.Yet, those same men, unfavorably described in essays as…
By: Ann Christine Tabaka Tomas looked at the well-worn prayer card with the image of Saint Theresa the Little Flower; reading the prayer on the back before putting it back into the photo sleeve in his wallet between faded pictures…
By: April Mae M. Berza How does God end this year’s storyas He writes wars, disasters, faminein the youthful pages of our own history? Even religions kneel before the chapters of poverty,the soil tillers weed out the lands with sin;how…