By: April Mae M. Berza In the heat-drenched corners of the Philippine archipelago—where roads turn to rivers during monsoon, where schools are often hours away by foot, and where children dream in dialects rarely printed in textbooks—education does not begin…

By: Andrew Giusto “I have found a bizarre universe of brightly colored horses about one half the size of other horses and yet seemingly at adult and seemingly beyond ages. The colors are fundamental to them and I suspect genetic…

By: Ron Riekki 1             The Poet Laureate pulls me aside and tells me that the next Poet Laureate to be elected to his position is going to be white and it’s going to be a friend of his and…

By: Tracy Kempsey The first time Nick saw Cassie standing in the living room of his flat it was exactly six months after her funeral. She was standing in the same spot as the television, occupying the same space, nearly…

By: Christopher Johnson New York, you are a blasphemous monster, a sybaritic Gomorrah, a never-ending explosion of neon lights. Your subways carve through the sinful soil and snake their way forward, walled with darkened tiles and clanking metal and pillars…

By: Steve Lightbody Sonnet no. 16 In fire’s dancing glow the summer shinesWhen sun is down and Bella Luna laughsWith silver warmth which dries the blind-man’s bathIn which we bathe when Earth to night inclines.When days grow long at solstice’s…

By Douglas J. Lanzo Dedicated to Vasiliy Lomachenko Commanding respect in the ringthroughout his entire career,with punishing precision,instilling opponents with fear; Two Olympic golds to his name,five world titles in three belts,a nearly unblemished recordthat 400 amateurs felt; Dubbed “The…

By: Christina Chin unbuttoning a red jacketladybird piercing dronesa twilight cicada keeps company buzzing around the fish stallsummer flies dodging the fan’s breezea fly swatter a falling preyrolls into the antlion’s trap crumbs laden convoyant trail night gardena spider accelerates…

By Paul Dickey “it is these wall you understanddear they paper thin and I’malways afraid we are fallingthrough the floors buy I amthe first to admit that Georgeon occasion comes home a bittoo drunk but who could bea better father…

By: Richard LeDue “Discombobulated Again” An old song sounds new again,taking me backto being in high school again,when I heard it for the first timeas we drove around with nowhere to goand believed the music wouldn’t ageus, but it did,so…