By: Ruth Z Deming How delighted I was to learn that Eileen was moving in with her grown son after living with her husband Bill in Florida. Bill had died a lingering death of emphysema. When they had visited here…

By: Ram Govardhan It’s inconceivable that Mona Lisa is Leonardo’s unfinished magnum opus, even after he took fourteen years to refine the elusive, enigmatic half smile. Yet, discontented with the outcome, he sought to improve upon it, even on his…

By: Shyama Laxman She She goes around the officeAsking if we have any foodA banana or even a can of tunaFor her ten-year oldWho is on the cusp of a tantrumFuelled by hunger She looks sleep deprivedThough her hair is…

By Doug M. Dawson             Percy Rainbow felt he’d seen a lot in his nearly seventy years, though he really hadn’t. He started life in the deep south, migrated up to Baltimore to work in its factories in the late…

By: RC deWinter to know the place i can be sittingstill as a stonesilentthinking nothing in particular suddenly your shadowslips inside my mindmy flesh moistens and meltsinto a landscape of desire you wandermy hills and valleysevery so oftenbending to drop…

By: Pawel Markiewicz You must excuse me. You dear dreamer!I have overly felt my dreamery about Golden Fleece.I built my small paradise without any other ontological beings.I based the dreamiest sempiternity on tenderness of my wings.Thus. I painted my wings…

By: Mamta Dorbi A Tenant in the City of Rainbows I came, a tenant,In this city of rainbows,The sun rises here,At a circadian rhythm,With sumptuous shades unknown,At times glossy or aureate,At others prismatic or lucent,The flowers fragrant,With tints abundant. Grown…

By: Bill Kamen It was a warm summer night in LA, August ’69,A single night of infamy and psychic darkness for mankind.Sharon Tate was close to fulfilling her empty outcries,when the night burned its cloak in the sunrise. Earlier before…

By: Allison Futterman You come to my dorm room holding your pants in your right hand. In your left is an iron, and a jacket is crisply folded and draped over your arm. I realize this is your ROTC dress…

By: Roger G. Singer ANGELS AND DEVILS words and languagesfell to the groundlike autumn leaves we step around,staring downat what makes upour sentencesand thoughtsand thatof others,comparing,learning whatto avoid, or acceptas ownershippoints to thegood and bad,the hidden invisible,sheltered withinnow scattered forall…