Category: Uncategorized
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Seizure by Jason M. Thornberry
The day the date the specific now is gone. The words in my mouth dissolve as a bucket of liquid anxiety drenches my upper body, primed for travel across tissue and organs, dripping leaking seeping from my ribcage onto my intestines. It slowly passes. When it does, I want to throw up in hopes the…
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HABROMANIA by Nachi Keta
Once there was a fisher. Poor. Lived in a humble shack by the ocean and always wore the same pair of loincloth and vest. People didn’t despise him, but they didn’t love him either. They saw him with a peculiar mixture of disgust and empathy, and kept an eye on him out of ennui. His…
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ghost tour of penn hills honeymoon resort by Kailey Tedesco
in last night’s dream i knowingly did awful. our love’s trauma snuffs the courtyard, salts it glass-stained—vegetation grows only to house the tongues of snakes, preening to bite. the old hotel encores its chant of honeymoon suites, all of them buzzing decaywards. my own soul, askew, charms against what was once a mattress, now a…
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i can’t be by berkay bayram
i can’t be.and i carry that magical burden of the fact that i can’t be.i can’t be the spectrum of colors that shows up after the rain, to be a good scene.i can’t be the sugar in the coffee that makes it taste sweet.i can’t be a gold key for my folks that feel locked…
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Poetry by Mckenzie Lee
Measure Blue There are browning crescents, where I dug my nails into waxy mottled flesh. The moon is out with a rising sun- waning sharp, soapy pear and thumbprint smooth bark. There are many different kinds of cyanoscopes, holding the green up transforms what kind of sky it is. Arm up with branches- I notice-…
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When My Feet Touched Dark Soil by Jessica Drake-Thomas
When my feet touched dark soil, flowers sprang up. Why does the sight of meadowsweet make me sad? It reminds me of who I once was. The power I had, under the face of the sun. When I fell, I did not fall alone, now I suffer in the dark, my sadness, a bitter fruit,…
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Poetry by Christy Chris
We Are the Over Comers We have comeFrom over the yearsBearing sheaves of historyHistory that was for us, a realityReality, that remains more than a reality We have comeFrom over the yearsBearing memoriesAnd lines engraved on the templates of our memoriesRefusing to be washed by time’s heavy rains. We have come With irregular tattoos on…
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Eating Pears on the Rooftop by David Estringel
Come! Let us eat green pears— cold— at night on the rooftop under burdened boughs of the old yew and the moon’s pale glow. Let us love and laugh at myths and shadow-plays born of sticks and stones and celestial light— the stuff of illusion (delusion) that pulls us far from the cold comfort of…
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Some People by Ken Tomaro
some people like to play it safe clinging to the banks of the river others float right down the middle and still others go where they want not paying attention to the rest Ken Tomaro is an artist and writer living in Cleveland, Ohio whose work has been published in several literary journals. He has…
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I Am My Roots by Andrés Sánchez
At first, I was from the motherland. Frijoles con queso y bolillo raised me. Corn tortillas kept me alive. I am from where the eagle perched on nopales. Green as the mountains the Aztecs called home. White as jicama con chile and limon. Red as the blood of my indegenous mothers. I came from maternal…
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