digital drawings
by Edward Michael Supranowicz [monday monsters 3]
poems by Ivan de Monbrison
translated into English from the Russian originals by the author We are Sunday morning, the month of May 2022 is almost over, Saturday night, there was a soccer competition in Paris, this morning the city was full of garbage that the fans had left everywhere, they had even broken tree branches. A jay was lying […]
poems by Carolyn Adams
Not Dead, But Not Quite Living I use time between departures to worry about you, the way we left it.
Island Style
by Kimberly Nicole Waianae, Oahu 2013 I moved to Hawaii on a whim where I rented an in-law suite on the island of Oahu that smells like a fragrance perfumers have been trying to bottle since ancient Egypt. The sun would set into the ocean during the summer months out of my glass sliding doors […]
poems by Eric Robert Nolan
Industrial Revolution dedicated to Robert J. Nolan 1. Did Leonardo Da Vinci Endlessly dream of machines? Not his own baroque creations, those Wood and wire winged artworks
Basarab Nicolescu ’80
de Petrișor Militaru Basarab Nicolescu este considerat azi o personalitate de primă mărime a științei contemporane, fiind binecunoscut la nivel internațional pentru contribuțiile sale remarcabile în fizica particulelor elementare, cu deosebire pentru formularea (în colaborare cu fizicianul polonez Leszek Łukaszuk în 1973) a unei noi teorii în cadrul interacțiunilor tari la energii înalte și a […]
Le MÉKONG, Boussole Secrète
de Thierry Quintrie Lamothe Frêles lumières posées sur le fleuve-cendre, Le vert, l’indigo tourbillonnent avec l’orange, Fleurs jetées et bougies allumées se mélangent, le temps de voir la clarté des souvenirs tendres.
point of promise
by Rus Khomutoff
Ziua în care pereții au urlat
(antifilosofie) de Mihai Pavel În acea dimineață teribilă de sâmbătă totul părea că avea să se năruie de la sine în lume. Norii își făcuseră cuib deasupra orașului, iar o atmosferă întunecată decora acest teatru lăsat în paragină. Cu toate că încă nu mă ridicasem din pat, simțeam că în mine luaseră foc toate […]
Alone Together
by Jason Bentsman Am I destined to become one of these wretches sitting at the café at eleven pm every Saturday night? One is hunched over a little notepad, scribbling something intently. Poetry? Notes? Scribbling something inscrutable with almost affected concentration and intensity. He wears a black […]