By: Ian C Smith My serendipitous introduction to Yeats’ early poem, He Wishes for The Cloths of Heaven, came about when I lifted an antimacassar on my armchair, exposing a hidden letter. A nephew, my house-sitter during recent travels then,…
By Chinese Poet Hongri YuanTranslated by Yuanbing zhang Each Rock is A Potala Palace The sunshine is mellow wine and there are golden palaces inside the sun. Where a giant is its master, he told me that I was his…
By: Shawn Berman OUR FAVORITE HALLOWEEN MOVIE IS THE ONE WHERE CASPER AND WENDY BECOME BEST FRIENDS BECAUSE NOBODY DIES AND THEY ALL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER sitting in our underwear carving pumpkins on the floor you turn the volume…
By: Alan Berger Once in a world of sorrowThrice in a world of painWhere memories I never hadWhere all laid to blameAt the age I am right nowReady for the gateI still don’t know how or whyI received a smile…
By: Shannen Zitz KINTSUGI i have mended hundreds ofbroken things.i never questioned the necessity of it,just knew, this is probably howit would always be.never knew where the crackswere coming from,only that they were there. and i filled them.with whatever i…
By: Aanika Eragam I didn’t notice she was missing till the world began withering,weeping willows sweeping banyan seeds down rabbit holes,coyotes howling for mercy as dandelion feathers chokedtheir newborns’ throats. I sat on a swing in an empty playgroundlistening for…
By: Rehanul Hoque A Piece of Wonder If men were to be compared with an ass and vice versa,Without much speculation on the respective role of eachanyone could assert ass is the best ass, man is perfect manand to acknowledge…
By: Christiane Demack Butterfly!You came back!All my lifeI’d felt your bright blue wingsBeating against the inside ofMy rib cage, fanning the fire,Inside;Gifting me visions of flowers and honey,Dreaming mimosas and hyacinths,Into existence; lingering by fountainsOf joy in the silver light…
By: Milton P. Ehrlich PACKED AND READY TO GO OUT OF THIS WORLD Lovebirds sit on their suitcaseswaiting for their wings to sprout.They listen to a melancholy melodyin a minor key planting seeds of love.They carry a supply of dark…
By: Stephen Kingsnorth I carried a Pisa piletowards the door desk, greyish tinge.The bright street frontage, poster glowfelt-tip scrawl announced, not Alexandria,but fire damaged stock for sale. High School me, taken self to town,found this people-free paradise;miser pocket-money in pig-skin…