By Lois Hard Rain cascades from her cheeks as she mourns the only person she ever really knew. When the advocate comes, he will plead her case, but not until she completes her deed. There is still hope though, even as the liquid drips from her fingertips, and her ashen…
By Peycho Kanev Two Girls play in the Shade, by an Oak, their plastic dolls are battered and eyeless. the Sun tries to kiss their sweaty cheeks, but the Shade encompasses the small bodies. My old house sits quiet, on the street. I sit in a rocker behind a drawn…
By Damon Marbut Each time I turn over my shoulder and plummet toward Earth I do not recall the first time I’ve done this, that I have left for a while. But I do it relentlessly, unquestioningly, upwardly joining something to learn how to fall away back into myself. When…
By Amanda Paulger She said to me once, This earth is one Great big stone Which grew life One great big stone With a heart Beating, awake. We should thank it for being alive. My grandmother preached At her kitchen table Or over the stove while She cooked breakfast, “Vote,…
By Jeannette Kirchner Crushed rock across finger tips bricks to the hand scraping across them. Broken, cracked, faded, colorless stained glass of meaningless scripture. Shame overshadows as pieces of straw fall through the roof scared flocks scattered into the sky. Scurried away from their home built from God’s former home…
The Blatant Realization By Susan Soares When the layers of your onion Finally peeled away I wasn’t happy with your center When the colors of your rainbow Finally shimmered in the sunlight I didn’t bask in their glow When the last of your insecurities Finally freed themselves from you I…
Crush By Maria Belotti I watch; I wait. Bated breath, I lean into my Chair and force myself to be still. Slender fingers tremble unknowingly I Start a drumbeat then I force myself to stop – Only to worry at a hangnail and cause the roughened skin to tear then…
The Zenith By John F Buckley and Martin Ott Joe and Lydia wanted another loved one to hold, companion to their quarreling son and daughter, The tiny voice brayed in the electronic puppy mill, the family mesmerized by the thump and squawk. The Zenith was a kaleidoscope of their desires,…
Y By Changming Yuan You are really haunted by this letter Yes, since it contains all the secrets of Your selfhood: your name begins with it You carry y-chromosome; you wear Y-pants; both your skin and heart are Yellowish; your best poem is titled Y; you seldom seek the balance…
By David Cravens Rodney Brooks’ colleagues at MIT assumed robots had to be stable but he watched a film of insects tripping, colliding, dropping food— making mistakes so he built Gangus, an android that behaved like an ant scrambling, falling – rectifying errors Tarantino too noticed something of this reading…