By: Edward Ahern There’s something about power That draws the worst of men, and puts their aberrations on magnified display. There’s something about supporters who vote for a defective yet claim to own what’s right, and cope in the surreal….
By: Edward Ahern I cannot force myself to fear a pleasant, sunny day, and yet that’s when most people kill people. Road rage, gang fights, bank robbery Car wrecks, drug deals, spousal slayings Suicides and matricides and random death. I…
By Gaither Stewart Some years ago an amusing satirical article in the Buenos Aires leftwing daily, Pagina 12, made me want to cry. In five thousand words the Argentinean journalist José Pablo Feinmann, ridiculed, among other things, the whole concept…
By Maria Agostina Biritos Blue. My world is filled with blue. His eyes. His All-American fairy-fucking-tale prince-charming blue eyes. And he is all mine. He is blond. Dirty glossy honey blond with sunny highlights. And he is all mine. Dreamy…
By: Milt Montague eyes closed completely relaxed comfortably ensconced in recliner, feet raised air conditioning hummms ready for my next adventure floating up and away a thrill runs down my spine embarking upon a new experience I enter a vortex…
By: Milt Montague long long ago before men learned how to destroy our only source of life by their own stupidity…. lived two great empires the Egyptians and the Hittites of biblical fame more or less peacefully for many generations…
By: TM Blayte Seeing as it is the first day of school, I’m expecting anything, or almost anything; except for my girlfriend to tell me we’ve committed the unforgivable crime. I am walking out of the last class of the day,…
By: Daniel Olivieri Back then, we were disappointed with the lack of monsters under our beds, with the murderers not lying in wait for us, with the severed limbs not buried in our backyard. We liked the idea of demons…
By: Tom Roth i reached over my head skimmed the counter with my hands thinking opened palms were up there waiting for me above the edge but a crockpot crashed on my head i cried not in pain but in fear…
By: Tom Roth I click my mouth and clap my hands over the cold barbed wire fence and they look at me like I am the Holocaust. They have conversations with their big black eyes, asking if I am aware of…