By Eric Burbridge The impact spun the vehicle and shattered glass followed his body against the door. Nick was ejected before the car flipped. He couldn’t feel his legs. His face was pushed against the curb. What happened, what…
By: April Mae Berza I started writing when I found out about the national hero of the Philippines crafting verses at an early age. That time, I told myself I will follow his footsteps. When I realized I could never…
By Eric Burbridge For once I followed the doctor’s orders. “Get some sunshine, good ole vitamin D.” He said. I loaded my walker and headed for Tooley Park, a thirty-minute drive from the house. As fast as I walked…
By: Mohammad Jashim Uddin Literature is the reflection of social picture and human life. It highlights the socio-economic condition, religious belief and its impact on human being, changes of the world, ecology and environmental issues, dark-sides of the capitalism, political…
By: Priya Anand My Rambunctious Garden My rambunctious garden, a name I unabashedly borrowfrom a book in my daughter’s burgeoning libraryIs filled with a melange of plants thrown together in a frenzySpindly curry leaf rubs shoulderswith an elegant Parijat who…
By: Adam Wan Postmodernism—a cultural, philosophical, artistic, literary, and architectural movement that emerged in the latter half of the twentieth century, and twenty or so years into the twenty-first century, the movement has laid down the very foundation of contemporary…
By: Amrita Valan The mind is a repository, a church,A museum, a junk yardAn attic, a trunk,Stashed away with treasures, puzzlesGems, obsolete ciphers. I have been seeingThe tiny corner tableFrom early childhood todayWith the cumbrousBlack telephone atop. Recalling calls received…
By: James Bates A tandem bicycle was the last thing Liz and I bought before she left me for her personal trainer, a muscle-bound guy named Zeke. “I’m never coming back,” she told me as they drove off on his…
By: Ryan Quinn Flanagan Catch Phrase It had taken many professionals to snare it.Many more to transport and care for the phrase. As it worked its way around the perimeter of the enclosure.Mapping out its new surroundings. After all its…
By: Matthew Borczon My anger Is for you not the horse you rode in on it’s for the lightning not the tree it dropped across the road and it’s not for the soldiers who killed and died in the war who still kill and die in my dreams no my anger is for the men who start wars in the first place and at me for believing that any good would come from it it’s for the kid I was who enlisted without a clue about the man the war would make out of me ### Graveyard shift Another sleepless night and I am on the internet looking at pictures of whales who appear to sleep standing up near the surface so they can get air they sleep only an hour or two a night as long as a ship doesn’t hit them and I wonder what their dreams are about as I remember that the origin of the term graveyard shift is from the times when the dead would sometimes wake back up inside the coffin so they would tie a string from their wrist to a bell and if it rang the worker on the graveyard shift would have to dig them back up from the ground and I never wonder about his dreams because I have spent ten years on the graveyard shift shovel in hand digging soldiers and Marines women and children out of the ground as Afghanistan rang in my ears. ### I was thinking this morning for Dana About the bones of the sun and the blank stare of our kitchen clock I am listening to Bob Dylan wondering if you can ever really truly be one too many mornings and a thousand miles behind as I am wishing I could swim across the surface of your coffee cup into the light in your eyes as I reach for your hand across the table it’s weight is heavy with everything you bring to our…