By: Jim Murdoch Frankie Says Don’t Go There Most days I’m nearer to tears than…No one ever says they’re near to smiles, do they?I expect there must be times when I am,when I feel a grin coming on, perchance a…
By: Sushant Thapa Trapped and welcomedForsaken and giftedTwo boats in one riverWhen one sails?When one sinks?Decisions and chances,Houses that shelterThe blowing blizzard.Is it pain,Is it endurance?Larger-than-life idealWay too expensiveFor a cheap intuition.The rose of youthThe fragrance of gloryThat keeps repeatedly…
By: Annie Albright Pickle I pickled cucumbers that daybut as I was slicing the cucumbers I cut my thumband a drop of blood fell in the pickling liquida drop of salt in saltand I was remindedof the specimens in my…
By: CLS Sandoval A Tale of Two Plantations Myth of Black ConfederatesLies of those who tell themselves thatConfederate statues are important to remind us of our white heritage Imagine a Bronzed homage to the Third Reich in MunichYou will have…
By: Jim Bates Sub-zero wind blowsIce crystals form on eyebrowsThoughts of spring prevail. Warm winter daydreamsBlue sky and bluebirds singingChase away the grey Sunshine through bare treesShadows on snowy crystalsStretching toward spring. Subtle shift in moodSorting flower seed packetsDreaming of…
By: David R. Topper Oh, to be a narcissistis to beoblivious to being wrongoblivious to making a mistakeoblivious to making slip upsoblivious to inadvertently offending someone Oh, to be a narcissistis even to beoblivious to apologizing for being apologetic Oh,…
By: Laura Stamps What does she feel like today? Which postcard? Something light. Bright. A sunflower. Yes. That’s it. That’s the one. “Dear Elaine,” she writes. “This morning. On Tucker Road. Driving home from work. I saw a man. Walking….
By: James Aitchison What purpose is therein a world that wants todestroy itself? It is not for the world to say. There is a sequence in the tapestryof life, dictated by the Wheel,as each being progresses througha series of lives….
By Emily Breen Love Notes I wrote heartfelt love notes before I knew what love wasBefore I knew what like wasAnd while I was writing them I knew I felt every emotion that came close to love And looking back…
By: Viator Thin Tally My fingers are scored with the incisionsof these dry days, my skin shrinking,unable to meet the square-inchrequirements of the underneathuncaring bones, so separatingin pain and small slices, invisible even thoughshouting in their sharp zinguntil well after…