They eat my God

by Marcus Goldberg I am a wicked sound that spoils the harmony the world so dull can’t understand it lives in vain

Persistence of Death

by Marcus Goldberg the flame of the candle went sailing as the smoke from its darkness entered my lungs

say No to democracy

by Diana Todea yells passing the Sabbath choir Muslim girls covered in death’s breath Israel praying in mud with fingers crossed my pagan ache is…

We are all Jews

by Diana Todea the right and wrong, the Christian tale collapse- the Germans look behind and hit the wall the Jews enslaved

Outside in this dream

by Diana Todea The murmur of your voice pulsates, breathes in water. Outside your body, the herbs have stopped your heart,


by Lucia Dărămuş Autumn has never been more beautiful as now the grain of rain weeps on the leaf — heart, painted poem of God…


by Ioana Jucan The car .. was being driven safely on the asphalt highway. It was a newly purchased 280-hp, 3.6 liter V6 VW Passat…

La Journée

by Ioana Jucan Ripe. Riper. Ripest. Ripening. Ripeningly. Ripened. Rip/Ready.

Sound from Sahara

by Diana Todea metal skies-black bones in the desert pray for rain, pagan monk silence no tear