By: Mitchell Krochmalnik Grabois I was drawn to all the wrong things ego ambition callousness Even after I understood I refused to be enlightened I dated women solely as an excuse to scare them half to death with my reckless driving…
By: Arthur Heifetz In your hands, the fuchsia, which had never lasted, survived the winter and bloomed again in spring. At the first sign of frost, you took them in and placed them in a warm spot by the…
By: Anne Britting Oleson Ornate, wrought iron: I gently screw the plates into the doorjamb, a clockwise turn of the wrist tightening the dividers of my world, replacing a door which ages ago some previous resident of this house felt…
By: Andrew J. Stone The game went like this: My brother and his friends would stand in a circle facing each other with a stick of dynamite in their mouths. They’d light the wick and whoever let it burn the…
By: Geoffrey Hoffman What is poetry? In what form should it be written? Ought it to be written at all, or is it nothing but escapist nonsense behind which we shy from reality? These are questions so old that it…
By: Joseph Grant The venerable old Grand Central Market was as good a place to meet as any, thought Eddie Ruggerio. It had been on Grand Street for almost a decade on the entire ground floor of the Homer Laughlin…
By: Kyle Hemmings We are glitter-puppies in a dance temple of extended happy hour truths. Some of us will die in our distressed jeans. Who is the closet lipster with too many au cell phone lives? So wasted in those buckled…
By: Kyle Hemmings At work, her father fights a losing war with paper men. Home, Zin imagines wind scorpion women without musical sense, exoskeletons in the morning, left-overs of love. Some girls are cursed with supernatural powers of hearing….
By: Kyle Hemmings Her new step-mom keeps losing herself in supermarkets, especially in the aisle that sells kitty litter or retractable dog leashes. She loves little dogs & homeless cats & admits freely that she herself might be verging on extinction….
By Richard King Perkins II He squats naked and glorious. He does not move. Intimidated, everything comes to him. Light, substance, power. The naïve, the curious, the envious. It’s true and utterly transparent. I despise his perfection. He is far more…