By: Dixon Hearne Steel mummies rust in scattered heaps as if tossed by pitchfork— littering the desert floor, changing shape with light and shadow and imagination. Debris. History. Art. A child’s roadside guessing game, chards and nuances of some former world…

By: Lana Bella A fresco of fireflies bled sepia, mapped the night’s ration of willows suffering the rapids, threatening from some dusk, implacable shifts. Broke like leaves, runnel of years preyed on by the sparks of dandelions, breathing antres, seeping side- wards with…

By: Lana Bella Down she will come from among the branches and roots, feathered skirts pulled from the many birds of the meridian sea. She disciplined hands, forgetting an entire winter of throat missing glass, where sorrow and gin met in…

By: Lana Bella Where earth was song and currents, I spread false indigo onto nights given glow of human skin, recalled to the pull of your hands in abeyance that was both real and omnipresent. Darkly of life I slept, pressing black to…

By Henry Simpson The receptionist called and said I had a visitor who wanted to talk to me about a business. I went to the lobby and met a large man named Melvin Lacks who looked like someone who had…

By: Robert Bermudez teaching a classroom full of six year olds in Ecuador helped me to truly understand what it feels like to be on the other side of the immigrant experience Deciding it was time to both get away and…

By Ramprasath 1 “How much can you afford?” Agent Neel asked. His eyes fell all over Renuga. Renuga appeared gorgeous despite her simple clothing. She just wore a red cotton saree with sandal blouse. A faultless glowing fleshy skin coupled…

By: Eryn King Freezing and numb, the world looked like it was beginning to fade away as darkness slowly took over my eye sight. Did I meet it–death I mean, the action or fact of dying or being killed; the end…

By: Jeremy Kim Loud clicks and taps His face a red sun I look to my screen Just chilling in a corner A cry for help His temper getting hotter I walk to him He’s surrounded by enemies I fire and…

By: Alex Lobera The lid and prop, detached, lie nearby: abandoned sword and shield of a once-proud warrior of song. The former-grand now lies on its side, exposed, its case open, frame and strings, the innards of one more dead, spilt…