By: Ria Banerjee  The vicious tentacles ofa fatal virusengirdles the world in alethal coil.The world gasps for breath,frantically choking, coughing andspewing out sputumand venom.It is a barricaded battle fieldof the living andthe dead.Or, perhaps of theliving dead.People go back and…

By: Michael Summerleigh Aaron looked around at the empty apartment…sunrise through naked windows setting newly-emancipated dust motes to dancing…a table and a chair…the laboured hum of the old refrigerator now reprieved from cooling anything at all… In the freezer was…

By: Fabrice B. Poussin Leftovers The select few in assembly had taken a huge biteof a feast destined to a multitude of destitutethose in rags who erred from scrap to crumblequietly, abandoned dogs of skin and bone. Incongruous bursts of…

By: Alan Berger We leave them to die  It’s not their faultThey don’t have the toolsIn their head vaultsTo make a fine life In every cityThere they areHere they stayHere they comeWelcome to your paradiseWe would be rather gratefulIf you keep…

By: Jill Olson Clinking glasses intermingled with twitters of laughter.  Bethany had put on a great spread for us to graze on, as we discussed this month’s book.  The fire crackled, whispering its presence while coupled with the aroma of…

By: Mike Zone Everything is fucked Writing poetryhoney-comb moonAllan in purple dream hazein search of toilethe just didn’t have the heart to tell herhe wasn’t the manshe was searching forthe night beforeeverything fuckednationalized pizza deliveryhobo’s hosting baby knife fights ###…

By: Stephen Kingsnorth This eyrie place,is it maids’ garret or penthouse space,servant peephole surveying classor milling subjects from royal box,pink plaza market peopled underneath? A portrait gallery:summer clothes brought out for wear,sunshine fashions unwrapping scare,swaddled usually from view,hairless legs displayed…

By: Jake Puffenberger He took his life like he took his coffeeLight on the sweetenerHeavy on the creamJust enough to take away the harsh edgeBoldFreshHe made it himself, alwaysNo coffee shops or machinesSomething valuable about the processHe sipped it slowlySavored…

By: Ed Krizek Music of Life There is beauty in silence.Nature still has somethingto teach us. The birdssing along with the car enginesand motorcycles. Muffled hallwayconversations. Doors openingand closing. Dogs barking.The music of lifeproduces a concertowhile I lie peacefully, waiting….

By: Ed Krizek After the episode everything was different. No one really knew what happened.  I certainly didn’t.  There was an explosion in the warehouse.  I was in aisle 12B looking for a piece of a cystoscope when I heard…