By: Harrison Linklater Abbott I was in the library at high school and was hovering over the aisles. I wasn’t much interested in novels. But when I got to the magazine section I came across these mustard coloured mags which…

By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Lost Sagacity By sounding smooth or inviting, sagacity often vanishesAmong words, turns of phrase, weird little expressions. Consider; a surfeit of depression, weight gain, glandularTrouble, fatigue can be sourced to rhetorical brouhaha. When fighting “monsters,” one’s…

By: Praniti Gulyani There’s a lot that goes into your dad being a doctor. When your dad is a doctor, you get to step into a white coat that almost blankets you; covering you from head to toe. You get…

By: R.T. Castleberry THE SILENCE IN FALLING Staring down a waning January moon,I feed dry brush to the campfire,watch the desert track of freight carsrounding a mesa silhouette.Wild dogs yelp, loping the crossties.Rising night pulls at my hat brim,carries bright…

By: Doug Bolling Urn Times 0ne night a year I attend theesteemed artist telling of his life,his travels through the longtunnels that become poems, poems in their rich cream,their motions and soundsthat lift from the pageand mingle with theshadows. 0ne…

By: C.G. Ward Replicas The builders refurbishing the flatbelow are producing replicasof famous sights. Glimpsed behindrubble, dusty cloths and the Gaudícurves of bent radiator pipes are an MDFTaj Mahal in the kitchen and the ceilingof the Sistine Chapel lovingly reproducedin…

By: Paweł Markiewicz I am through a superb window – looking.An angel of feeling awakes in me.The dreamy oak-trees stand alway leafless.The native auspicious cue is just large. My scenery – the enchanted verdure.The moony old barn of Ted my…

By: Gaither Stewart Reading Hannah Arendt’s Introduction to Benjamin’s Illuminations German-Jewish intellectuals, the alienated hommes de lettres of early twentieth century German-speaking Central Europe, constituted a class within that complex and multi-layered Jewish society against which a few of them…

By Clark Zlotchew Now, I’m a very good person; anyone who knows me will tell you.  I like people, I regularly contribute to a bunch of charities, can’t even refuse a panhandler who asks for a handout, especially if he…

By: Gresham Cash A child turned from his mother and father, paused by a yellow-brick wall, and looked back at his parents with a face of dejection. A sign of obstinacy in the face of authority, a testing of filial…