By: Alan Berger Here are some wordsThat I wrote one dayWhen it allWent the wrong wayAnd the world that I rent inLeft me speechlessNothing to say Make it all go awayOr have it swing with my sway Here is a…

By Dennis Robleski A barracuda’s concerns are few, especially for those that live along the coast of Bimini in the westernmost district of the Bahamas feeding on the plentiful fish around the expansive coral reef.  They have few natural predators…

By: David Francis Passing Headlights All I want to do is connect with youI’ve tried too hard, I’ve tried too softI’ve come in at anglesand I’ve been direct I’ve tried too hard I’ve frowned and I’ve smiledI’ve stayed awayand I’ve…

By: J. Cassidy Hawthorne For Teddy I remember my first day. It was cold as Hell. It was the kind of cold where each thought you had was interrupted by another, single thought: it’s cold. I thought my nipples were going…

By Mark Kodama I.          The Walk             I am ill.  I have stage 2 bone marrow cancer and diabetes 2.  So my doctors told me I needed to take more walks, get more exercise.  So this morning I took a…

By: Jeff Watkins Wearing only scanty panties, Corporal Rochana Toch (a female Cambodian emigrant who looks like a skinny prepubescent girl) seductively, sinuously sways toward Corporal Daniel Selnick, murmuring, “Me so horny. Me give you beaucoup suckee fuckee.”  An expression…

By: Jeff Watkins “You have a beautiful baby boy, Miss Selnick. You can hold him for a while, and then we’ll get him all cleaned up.” “No. I don’t want to hold him. He’s so icky! His ears—he has black…

By Mark Kodama (Inspired by “A Taste of Friendship” by Shawn KlimekAnd used with his permission.) I.          The Condo             It was the greatest birthday party ever: raucous singing, lunatic dancing, and heavy drinking. Hermann, the neighbor below me, repeatedly…

By: Alan Berger A lot can happen overnightContinue again and make it right I could come over thereYou could come over hereWill not be meeting in the middleThe middle disappeared You may go to bed a loserDreaming of gone loversThe…

By: Alan Ford A hotel lobbyinhabited by solitudeimpersonal arrivals, nameless departuresa clock stops as time passes no one communicatesjust unsigned promises,broken words no one speaksonly spirits listen woman in a windowroom unfurnished by loveunrequited and unrestoredas blinds of life unroll…