(Commemorating the Bengali language movement day, February 21, 1952) Dr. Gulshan Ara The day was bright and sunny, pulsating in festive moodEarth beaming with life in a vibrant spring day, music playing in the airBaby green leaves peeping through skinny…
By: Simon Perchik From just dampness, nourishmentand rust seals the boltin place –the carriage already there and nearby, it rainsthough you take hold a single spokeas if the enchanted palace stopped moving –why is ita parent favors the weak oneand…
By: The Self is Unknown”(David Hume) But I believe I shape sensibilities, invisiblebut able to visualize through tunnels withoutbeginning or end, to catch the salty essenceinside a planet’s breeze and these other-world palms that brush the clouds with aqua-tinted fronds…
By: Matthew Birch IDrippingfrom my lipsthey form a pool LeavingI’m not ready in timeYou’re shoutingnot that loud it’s funnynow I can open the door Dried eyes and silenceI want to dive in again III put on my coatwhen the cold…
By: Clara McShane Avenue of Blackberries Avenue of blackberriesencapsulated by the treesspecks of wildflower, butter gorsefootball club cheering grows hoarse old man passes, all my lifelens matures with time and strifewilting fuchsia, ballet shoesawry poppy, Summer’s bruise benches who have…
By: George Freek WHY I DON’T SLEEP WELL (After Su Tung Po) The moon is the head of an axe,splitting the darkness in pieces.Leaves fall in the night.dying without a fight.They die so gently,it almost seems right.When I look at…
By: John Grey NADINE You’re out of time and place,having so many silent letters in your name,and drawn to the jukeboxin the dusty window of the antique score,while in the books you read,you stand up for the misfitsand prefer to…
By: Alan Berger I have no answersI have no questionsI have not, nor I will find the road to blissNo matter the inspections But I have remedied this Do you notice things about you?Without being toldOr like meDo you have…
By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Memories not Cancellations Cancel Culture did away with Mr. Potato’s head,Censored an epic picture show of the fallen South,From here to there, deleted tweetle beetle noodlePoodles, capsized monuments, likewise memorials,Similarly, smited abolitionist Hans Christian Heg’sLikeness. We…
By: Vitalia Strait A pair of brown boots is all I have from you.Maybe they’re a little bit like the way you were,A tad scuffed and worn in, but beautiful too.I wouldn’t know; you wouldn’t let me remember. I unzip…