by Gil Hoy I used to love reading books. The routine was always the same. I would visit my third grade schoolmate up the street. We would read and read for hours, in a peaceful little study in his house. Our parents were oh so satisfied with their precocious prepubescent…
by Devon Marsh This is the kind of fire that will go completely to ash. No remnants of oak left in the morning when I sip coffee, rest my hand on warm bricks, and our eyes share a smile acknowledging how flames moved together and made sounds.
By Josh Medsker I am on stage with Patti Smith. Kasama ko paglalaro ng gitara. I can’t hear what she’s saying, ngunit siya flapping sa paligid ang kanyang mga arm, at ang aking gitara is just throwing out waves of feedback. Ito tran…
by Veronica Young Down the creek we waded, in the heat of the summer. The sun forced itself upon us, water carelessly flowed below. Your laugh echoed in the trees, not a care in the world. How quickly the wicked water took you captive. A once happy song now a…
by Meghan Hawthorn Appearing alive. I call that art. Her body framed by a red chair, cigarette hanging from a limp hand and slouched to one side. Bright red lips parted slightly, seductive eyes half-open and glazed over under caked-on eyeliner and mascara. She looks almost unamused with one boot…
by Melissa Ashton Honeysuckle poured its’ essence into the languid day of summer heat. Rumbling bees hum inside the world of waving grass, magnified within my slumber a sanguine melody.
by Ashley Pereira Some dreamscapes hide behind closed doors Lost in a maze of scream-filled days And haunting quiet nights Some dreamscapes live in honey-glazed frames Lined up in cloaks of cow and tree skins Woven over string and leaf skeletons Some dreamscapes feast on memories And gorge themselves on…
by Autumn Carter Dedicated to my Grandmother, Marilyn Kay Blaydes, who died February of 2013 of ALS. You weren’t really gone; not at Christmas when your hundred dollar check for your great-grandson’s college savings didn’t come in with the gushing note about how proud you are of him (and his…
by Autumn Carter How many coffee shop clichés does it take to understand the delicious power of bitter liquid energy going cold in front of a myriad of caffeine enthusiasts? In the center of the air-blasted room, at the tallest, wobbly table, in an obvious sea of crop tops and…
by Emily Strauss —a mysterious invisible substance called dark matter: astronomers have been forced to confront the possibility that most of the universe is invisible, and that all the glittering chains of galaxies are no more substantial, no more reliable guides to physical reality, than greasepaint on the face of…