By: Susmita Bhat I couldn’t help eating the last shortbread cookie from the jar I knew that its rich flavor that melts in your mouth like a spoon of butter is your favorite midday tea-time snack Please forgive me for it…

By: Susmita Bhat The chili pickle sitting on the shelf was as red as fire Its sharp smell and fiery taste seemed to have grown after sitting untouched for several months As I closed the refrigerator door the shelf fell crushing…

By: Gary Glauber Uprooted from routine this spring mizzle seems cunningly contrived to overthrow presumption. Heavenly tears clarify this foggy tedium slowly descending when memory marries desire. This juvenescent digression sprawls past simple grin, careening carefully into another fixed expression, stone-faced,…

By: Gary Glauber A tepid night invites possibility, a chance at significance, something temporal that might last beyond this happy moon’s slow journey. Imagination curves into persuasion as conscious singularity takes root, knitting the dark into webs of realization through forces…

By: Gary Glauber Picturesque afternoon into evening, further proof of my own misgivings. Have I willfully misled her? Sounds of crashing waves allow minds to wander. Howard thinks she’s vapid, incapable of tackling philosophical queries that regularly riddle our conversations. She…

By: Gabriella Mejico As the mercury drops, and twilight passes into night. I greet Cetus and Orion as they travel through the Milky Way. A freezing caress lures me deeper into the night. Time is forgotten, and all that remains are…

By: Denny E. Marshall after incident the three bears change locks goldilocks meets up with little red riding hood three bears surprise wolf jack’s magic beanstalk only climb up short distance harvest giant beans realize bad kisser that day riding in…

By: Denny E. Marshall after countless years in deep underground shelter open steel hatch door airless as much of shock as sight of asteroid surface spend year’s underground finally the day arrives open hatch with caution step on surface, air is…

By: Gentle Culpepper Rotting flesh on a stick The cool winds flow from the valleys of the dead. The foul souls surfing nervous seas stuffed with hate caress fat cheeks of the chunky man riding the devil’s wheels. The morning air…

By: Suneet Paul The setting is of a spacious furnished room with two beds placed at right angles to each other. There is a twin seater and a comfortable chair with a coffee table on the side at one corner of…