By: David Hanlon Growing up, he was caught in his bedroom with music and feelings or more often, a battle between them— one trying to escape the other. Those obsessions— Rubik’s cubes of insecurities, finally completed not by finding the right…

By: David Hanlon Night comes as quickly as snap-shut eyes, or the quick blink in the mirror before noticing how time has lined my forehead. A wealth of experiences between temple skin folds. I hold them all here on my face…

By: Linda M Crate it’s no skin off my nose if you don’t like me my heart is a skein of stars not everyone knows to make of, but i am a tapestry of galaxies woven into bones; i don’t…

By: Linda M Crate september wakes heavy on my bones for all it’s golden beauty i am always wound in nightmares of you because this is when you stole a piece of my soul i’ll never get back wish i…

By: John Tuttle Love. ‘Tis unique to the self-named humankind. The strongest emotion, the capital virtue. It is not an element solely of the mind. Love: potent, everlasting, undying, true. Love. Her offspring is life, new life. I want a…

By: Pete Cotsalas Winter storm Jonas relinquished his assault on Maryland. Snowplows sweeping mounds on his street awoke Mateo Gonzalez. He decided to get up and shower, gently pushing Snarky the cat off the bed. Francesca was in the kitchen…

By: Matt McCarter There are a few phrases that have been floating around college campuses the last few years – “whiteness” and “white privilege.”  These phrases have trickling down from academia into America’s popular culture and are quickly becoming part of…

By: Matt McCarter Mike Chamberlain usually arrived at the office of the Piankashaw Journal, the weekly newspaper, late and thoroughly hungover from a hard night of drinking.  He looked into the bottom drawer of his desk and found a half empty…

By: Matt McCarter Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird is the most well-known Southern novel of the 20th Century.  An entire generation of people were raised on the 1962 film of the same name starring Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch. In…

By: Mary Kaye Valdez “Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four… Forty-four…” our bus driver, Bernie, counted dreadfully slow. Please, say forty-five already. “Forty-three? No, forty-two?” he recounted. It was probably the fifth time he had been counting. It was also probably the fifth time…