By: Kushal Poddar Monsoon Markets Metaphors On the monsoon mossy market wallsun lays down its merchandiseone by one. Already tired are its flesh.Clouds gossip about the imminent reclining.The shine stares me blind. I am here with mywife, a better bargainer…
By: P.C. Scheponik Beauty Sings in Silence Today, when my wife and I were driving home from the grocery store,the traffic stopped. The cars lined up quickly, bumper all but kissing bumper.Summer sun danced off windshields, and the heat from…
By: Christopher Johnson In March of 2020, the pandemic came blowing into and through America like an ice wind sodden with misery and mystery and surprises galore in store for us for the next two years that felt like twenty…
By: Janelle Finamore Blue Cotton Candy The day dissolves in my mouth like cotton candy finding it’s peaceful end Hesitant to believe that this never ending day would actually conclude Trapped in a permanent wet tongue Down slimy throat, intestinal…
By: Jesse Wolfe H-O-R-S Tuesdays—dad’s day—when mom worked lateat the hospital, he collected usfrom school for lazy rounds of HORSE. Sun crept behind the garage,we slipped on sweaters, shots clangedoff the rim. Games dragged onwhen leaders failed to clench their…
By: Jane Druzhinina The Old Lady and the Cat A hot summer day.She sits on an old peeling chair, talking to the homeless kitty.Today again, just like yesterday, and the day before yesterday she brought her food.The kitty accepts the…
By: James Aitchison When you trust me,there is peacewithin your inner self.When you love me,there is honestyin your mind.When you see the path and walk itwith acceptance,then, and only then,will you hear me always,walking with you.When you turn your thoughts…
By: Alexandra Călinescu Do you like crying? Do you enjoy that feeling you get after you cry? when your face is all so…wept and wet yet, somehow… pictorial… and your eyes dry up and you get the feeling that although…
By: James Aitchison (after a visit to the Grampians, Australia) I came to unbreakable rock,Older than any on earth;Rock that could never be quarried,Rock that had gazed upon countryBefore any woman gave birth. Beside this unbreakable rock,My life is not…
By: Cheryl Snell Fuzzy Today you must choose your pronouns. It should be a simple task but you are complex. Full of partial truths, once you were a stickler for grammar. Remember the “Surrender Dorothy” graffiti painted across the Beltway…