By: Ruth Z. Deming She lived at the end of the block. People were always staring at her when she came out to play with her daughters, Josie and Ridley, who swam in a little blue pool with mermaids on the…
By : Amirah Al Wassif I remember! Yes, I remember this letter When my tears decided to escape Out of me, I felt that is better My soul took over my shape I heard him laughing at me and clearly…
By: Paweł Markiewicz 16 Man: rice Buddhist fields all the treasures of the world I’ll give you a wolf if you tell me what has so far delighted You? the most marvelous eternal poetry of a cracking philanderer she-wolf or I…
By: Alan Berger “Did you see that kid throw?” If Packer heard that once, he heard it a million times. One hundred bucks, times a million, he thought in his financial research wheelhouse first rate mind. With that kind of…
By Bill Butler When I was 17, my summer job was helping out in a pool hall located in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. A shadowy place, it had a dozen brightly lit tables and the fragrance of cigars….
By: Cynthia Pitman Amalgamated Memories Imagine yourself seated on the ground, surrounded by baskets, each basket cradling a jumble of disparate items (a feather, a knife, a memory), items confined yet uncollected. Within each basket is one red marble, bright…
By Sana Mojdeh A Muffin Man is a mute, a filler, a nodder. A Muffin Man is an irrelevant, in most cases unfocused subject in the background of the frame who nods once in a while. Nodders nod against each…
By: Sana Mojdeh I’m waiting on the implantation floor, sunken into a white leather sofa that circles outward in the center of a large, otherwise wide-open room. Everything is white and blindingly bright in here. Whichever direction I turn, horizontally mirrored…
By: Lauren White Rambunctious I’m feeling rambunctious Yearning for reprieve from this restive existence In a transient state I watch my muscles twitch, twiddle, troll the air Looking for something to grasp So that I don’t have to remember Reimburse…
By: Vladimir Motchoulski Edgar slowed his pace as the burial oak crawled into his field of vision from beyond the trail’s end. His son Nathan scurried at his side, riding on a meek ripple of strength that would soon fade away….