By: Paulo Lorenzo L. Garcia  I pity the man who will love you when I’m through. Late at night, he’ll catch your restless eyes peeping through the roof for stars I named after you and when he follows each star from…

By: Paulo Lorenzo L. Garcia You’re like a star So near, yet so far and I am a starburst Of white-hot rage cursing the horizon dividing us two and once snuffed out by senile rage our story begins anew I have…

By: Paulo Lorenzo L. Garcia Walking through the train station on a hard day’s night I see her bob cut brush short of her shoulders. From behind I could make out a smile that fanned from one ear to the other…

By: Isabelle Kenyon Flattened fur and dampened spirits, bodies too large to take refuge in long grass – you lie defeated, resigned but waiting. With eyes of fire you watch for prey.  

By: Isabelle Kenyon Great clouds gather, hang like rotten fruit, Peppering the waves with their sour perfume. Salt–drizzled iceberg tickled by an arched bough a mermaid tail, somersaulting through Ocean’s silence, body twisting, Commanding the tides.    

By: Jamie Kahn When I was a young teenager, my sister and I began noticing that around our neighborhood, there was a black cat that often appeared in peoples’ yards and bushes, hiding away and darting whenever he saw a person….

By: Andrew J. Gleason  I have decided to kill myself. Know that it is not out of love or sadness that I perform this most heinous act but because I chose it over the alternative, for that seems far, far…

By: Ian Fletcher They bump into each other after thirty-five years at the funeral of a friend from university days whom cancer has taken from the world too soon. They’re both staying over so have arranged to chill that evening over…

By: Ricky Garni There is a bar named Honey’s that makes a delicious and exotic cocktail that uses filtered ocean water from Montauk in its recipe. Even though it sounds interesting and inspired, I am afraid to try it because…

By: Alyssa Trivett Newspaper cutout men danced in my head, my stomach bowling pin quakes, sits, stays, rolls over to machine beep symphonies. Bedpans slam-dance. I spy faint figures in hospital garbs; the ghosts of my dreams, as I see stars….