By: Paul Dickey What to Make of a Night? As I walked to your house,I tried not to get old.I concentrated on whatI was supposed to:the wine, the walk,what I would say to youwhen you greet meat the door and…

By: Daniel Acosta, Jr. Preface After graduating from the University of Texas with a degree in pharmacy during the height of the Vietnam War, I was able to get a draft deferment to attend graduate school at the University of…

By Michael Lee Johnson Trail of Tears in the Snow Footprints in the snow, fresh.Will your divorce lawyers talkto Jesus this night—set me chain-free.Set you on your traveling ways.Searching, we’ll both be curiously searching.Even hell has its standards burn with…

By: C.A. Broadribb Theresa surveyed her herd of 600 cattle as she sat on top of a hill, sipping on a glass of wine.  Her favourite red-and-white Hereford, Dot, wandered up to nuzzle her hand. “Hello, darling,” she said, stroking…

By: Lahari Mahalanabish The seamen swing,in fatigued, fevered relish of the cradling in infancy,couched in their threadbare hammocks,the ship plunges into the reshaping trough of wavesspooned towards the sandy dash with a green rumpleon the horizon, to fill in the…

By: Bruce Levine Counting snowflakes As winter lingers Framing the landscape Like the sash of a window Frames the glass panes Divided lights Outlining snowdrifts As the lines on a calendar Divide months into weeks and days The season progresses…

By: Cynthia Pitman i. The Predator and the Prey: Severe Depression Agony prowls the streets tonight,seeking easy prey.My gnawing hopelessnessputs me at risk.I have sought refuge,but all doors have slammed tight.Thus I, too, crawl the night.From bin to bin,I hide…

By: Carl Papa Palmer We watched birthdays of our grandsons in Nebraska this year,watched from Washington those there singing Happy Birthday,watched the boys blow out candles, watched them open gifts,watched those there get hugs and kisses which we most missed….

By: Ryan Howarth He mops his stomach with a sock, gets up from his bed and goes into the bathroom. His reflection antagonises him with shame. The expression shifts to delight. He’s impressed with his physique today. In the shower…

By James Aitchison The final two words of Omar Khayyam’s famous poem The Rubaiyat are inextricably linked with Australia’s most bizarre murder investigation.  The Tamam Shud Case, often called the Somerton Man Mystery, presents a tangled thread of clues and…