By: Duane L Herrmann PHOTOGRAPH TRUTH Young woman lookingutterly uninterestedat the tiny formsucklingat her breast.No emotional connectionor responseto her first born.What is she thinking,impassive face,towards this childof her womb?There is no joy,no amazement or delight. What a hell it becamefor…
By: Carl Papa Palmer Army Buddies He starts in on one of his“that reminds me of when”war stories he’s repeatednumerous times over timeto us fellow retirees at his table, but this particular onehe’s busy telling us nowis his third time…
By: Josh Brown Even before you read a single poem you know, this is something special! There’s the intriguing, quirky title and the 69 acknowledgements listed at the end. Not a dreary collection of names that mean nothing to the…
By: Dr. Gulshan Ara Listen, carefully, listen to the drum beatThe inherent drum beat played by nature’s orchestraBe quiet, just listen, listen to the drum beat The howling wind dancing around the Grand CanyonThe Gospel being played incessantlyBy the restive…
By: Connie Woodring I don’t blame you for hating women, but let’s start at the beginning. Born of ova (female) and sperm (male) you can only divest yourself from half of your existence.Your first sensations are of safety, comfort, warmth…
By: Rehanul Hoque Provided you are my sweetheartBorrowing tints from aurora I will dye your silkWearing that silk, you will come to knowHow much of labor, exhaustion, decadence and miseryLurk beneath a thing of beauty. Provided you are my sweetheartYou…
By: K. A. Williams Here I am in a long line waitingfor my chance at some blindfold dating. This college party thing is weird – no doubt.But it should be fun to try it out. The girls and guys names…
By: Jules (my apologies, Williams) so much dependsupon a blue protectivecloak drenched with sweatand acrylic beside the pale whitebodies ### Jules, 23, is a literature student and instructor. He likes to read counter-intuitive and experimental poems. Some of his poems…
By: John McKernan I AM ALWAYS WAITING For a tiny splinterOf wood Long as this letter lThat weighs moreThan a baseball bat It will enter my skullAt a 90 degree angleAnd leave in two secondsI won’t even know it was…
By: Sushant Thapa Absence As I ask the eveningmy prayers to healI am like a moth circlingthe white bulb of never dying painSomeone will pass by andswitch the bulb off.Sometimes, the sunshinedoes not glow;I am left untouched by it.The moon…