By: Mendes Biondo we will live together in a wide tree house and every day we will have sex and every day we will dance bare as now we are I’ll smoke my cigars and you will drink a cocktail talking…
By: Joel Schueler When will you climb The Mountains of time? Instead you seldom see The pallid fathomed glee. Shape me in your greed Wise words you say I’ll heed And carefully pluck away Any formed debris. I bent my love…
By: John Grey The town overlooked the natural harbor from a half-circle of land. It rose in tiers like the seats of a theater. Transients, tourists, occupied the motels and shabby rental homes along the beachfront. Spread out behind was a…
By: John Grey He plays a musical saw because it’s the easiest instrument to learn and he can sit it on his lap, rub a bow across the blade and, before you know it, out comes a plaintive ballad that, despite…
By: Rajat Mitra I believe that despite irreconcilable differences between the ideology of Islam and Hinduism, there is a truth that lurks and surfaces when these differences threaten us. As a psychologist who has worked with radicalized youth and perpetrators…
By: Linda M Crate when it’s all over all i have is me so i’m going to love myself better so no one else ever has to, and i don’t want to be forever alone; yet i don’t want to…
By: Ruairi MacInnes Three line drama #4 Clones that live a thousand years Working in their mindless jobs Using the time to plan. Three line drama #5 Open plan dead end job. Like hypothermia: Comfort precedes death. Three line drama #6…
By: Holly Day She watches him as he pulls the bodies off the wall, the broken bones and smiles over chicken-wire poses, crackling fireplaces threatening the fragile taxidermist people those sightless eyes. She imagines the frame that will stretch her…
By: Holly Day When I disappear, it will be to follow some jazz trio from Eastern Europe bent on subverting and seducing middle-aged housewives across the country, with plans to take us back with them put handkerchief headgear on us…
By: Gaither Stewart (Reggio, August, 2001) (The chapter is from the work-in-progress novel ‘Fragments’) Circling over the Straits of Messina Airport in Reggio-Calabria, I feel my vision encompasses the entire world of antiquity. Any atlas in fact confirms…