by Lisa Harris Her early life was a fairy tale, and a journey into the land of Moses and the Israelites, and a daily closer walk with all things Jesus. It was a history lesson on the Methodists and John Wesley, a renegade Anglican with some good ideas. She heard story after…
by John P. Kristofco Sometimes she remembers those who come;sometimes she does not,her dreams blur with world she really sees: “I made doughnuts at the stove last night, before the men crawled from the pantry with their guns.”She sits inside the complex of a hoarder’s life,storing things forever from the thief who…
by Eleanore Lee Glow from belowWaves are all aboutHow we go. They’re aboutHow we see and hear. Sea undulatesAlwaysSurges and fallsHere bright glitterOf surface sparkleGleaming streamsThat pull and heave.Watch the wake!See the dolphins leap and plunge by the side of our boat, weaveThrough the water,up and down.Cataclysms of foamPour in…
by Gil Hoy I walk behind you, Allen Ginsberg, under the bright neon lightsof your California supermarket. I worry you’ll turn, bite my neck And suck out my blood, while yawping hysterically. I am America’shomophobic store detective and you are under arrest. America apologizes for your headache self conscious. You, for…
by Kristal Peace My confidant… How did we get here againTo knives thrownHoles madeVows shatteredFeelings swayed. My ally… When did we find our way backTo moments beforeCivilized discourseTo rage and fearAnd throats screamed hoarse. My sympathizer… Why do we prefer the roadAdorned with bramblesThistles and thornsLittered with grudgesAnd studded with…
by Thomas Griffin Crinkle-leafed prongs of summerphlox poke out of snow amidstwhiskers of seeds on the noseof ragweed shafts crab tree with a few dark rubiesyet to dropporcupine of stripped quincehead snowed under half-the-moon crown tiltstoward black woods rosy waves of clouds backthe fading sun falling behind trees— everything looks…
by Thomas Griffin The fog will not leaveno sun ascendsmist makes the worlda road and the treesweep all day
by Adina Edelman I smell death. The stench isn’t unbearable; more like the lingering odor of a tuna sandwich left out too long. But it brings up a heavy feeling inside me, a sickening anticipation for what is to come. I stroll down the locker-lined hallway, my boots making no…
by Jessica Bailey The knock came at the most inopportune time. Cassie paused. The whir of her mixer ploughing through the ingredients for a velvet cake was difficult to hear over. The rain pouring buckets outside certainly didn’t help. But then her buzzer sounded, and she hurriedly turned off the…
by Rudy Ravindra While taking a short cut through a lush wooded park to the swimming pool, Rahul glimpses, through haze of the morning fog, a divine damsel in a diaphanous dress, swaying gently on a swing. Her thick tangled hair is pulled back with a white scarf, except for…