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Reviewed by: Thomas Sanfilip Translated from the French by Kurt Heinzelman Host Publications Most poetry written today cannot claim descent from the moral standard that underlies all great poetry, but rather the neutered outer shell of language that evolved in…

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate i am a train one day i’ll crash into monuments of myself that i won’t recognize; we are always evolving, always changing the more we resist the more inevitable it is— and though we change there’s…

Poetry

By: Linda M. Crate  i was the girl that was too trusting i believed everything you had to say, and i didn’t conceive the thought you were just being charming to get what you wanted; it was all a game…

Books Reviews

By: Linda M. Crate you burned my dreams to ashes there was no need for such vicious carnage for a self-destruction that would take us both down in flames, and i do wonder sometimes if you said you loved me…

Fiction

By: Alan Swyer “On va te montrer un endroit extraordinaire,” my French girlfriend, Marie-Denise, said on an evening that, after many years, still feels like twenty minutes ago. We were young, carefree as I would ever be, and spending time…

Fiction

By: Reese Scott At night she would lie in bed and try not to think of eating. It wasn’t that she was hungry at least not for food. She would try her best not to sleep because she was still…

Fiction

By: Gaither Stewart “In order to understand the world, one must turn away from it on occasion.” (Albert Camus) Via Nazionale. The taxi battles its way up the steep avenue in the precarious right lane reserved for public vehicles. Blinding…

Fiction

By: JP Miller From the kitchen door of the stone house, one could see as far as the Red Hook ferry dock on St. Thomas. Down below the calm water and just off the beach on Cruz bay was a…

Poetry

By: J.L. Amos Creamy, purple-flowered porcelain. Circular. A tulled ballerina in toe shoes spins to brass polyphonics, mindless with a strawberry sneer. Bump it off the dresser with a searching elbow, rage smash it on the wall, finger push it….

Poetry

By: Khemendra Kamal Kumar Oh, what queer sight my eyes to see, Two lovely doves, springing in glee, In gusty South Easterly, they grew with me, Gliding in the fair skies, far from thee. In unison, swaying heads right to…