Poetry
By: Matthew R Moore at the motel for the lost – if you should find yourself here there’s free admission and endless hours while tires seem to sleep in sideways heaps and bumpers corrode as thoughts unhinged cars wave with bags…
Poetry
By: Matthew R Moore As the crow flies ass backward, As the bats scream in the belfry, As you beat a dead horse, You lost me. I know I don’t have a leg to stand on, The goose is cooked, so…
Fiction
By JP Miller It was 1969 when my mother and I moved to Edisto Island. I had graduated from an insignificant high school in Charleston and we were suddenly poor. My father had left my mother for a younger…
News
Imagine the world around you slowly blinking out, your familiar world disappearing into darkness till you begin to doubt not only the world’s existence but your own as well. In this terrifying blindness can you find the light? This is…
Literary criticism
By: Nathaniel Rupp A Vichian Analysis of “What the Thunder Said” What did the thunder say? This is the question one must ask when reading part V of T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land.” To do this is to begin…
Poetry
By: Linda M. Crate i‘m sure you’ve done this song and dance before because you were so sincere with your insincerity, and i‘m sure she has no idea that you‘ve made her the scarlet devil that i wanted to burn…
Poetry
By: Linda M. Crate i‘ll be a star in someone else’s sky forever i‘ll wonder why things had to be this way, but heaven knows maybe i‘m safer to never know that answer; so i‘m not going to make myself sick…
Poetry
By: Linda M. Crate you took my love for granted left me cold and bare without the golden autumn laughter, my breaths were shattered as my heart; everything felt like a zombie dream forgot what my brain was used for…
Poetry
By: Linda M. Crate i love penguins and white tigers, but leave all those arctic wolves buried in their snow father’s arms they only use their fangs to wound and impale; i love polar bears and white foxes, but leave…
Fiction
By: Mikayla Simmons It’s finally here, the worst day of the year, thanksgiving. The night before I had laid down on the grass in the turkey pen, and the next thing I know, I’m stuck in the trunk of a…