poems by James Croal Jackson
August 10, 2012 Friday night patio party. Drinks with the server crew.
The Bell Tower
by DC Diamondopolous Reverend Langston Penniman sat on the edge of his bed, stretching his black fingers. Everything had either twisted up on him or shrunk except his stomach. Once six-foot-five, he now plunged to six two, still tall, but not the imposing dignitary he once was standing behind the lectern in front of his […]
The Viral Thief
by Angandeep Kr Chatterjee PROLOGUE The alarms have started to ring. The shrill sound of the alarms in the museum broke the silence of the night as it was immediately followed by several footsteps approaching. The entrance to the hall was slowly getting closed as the iron gate descended. Arun Glowsky looked towards the entrance […]
poems by John Grey
The Kitchen Knives and I been here forever still straining to hear that lost chord linger after the others leave living under the constant pressure
Boots
by DC Diamondopolous The same sun scorched downtown Los Angeles that had seared the Iraq desert. Army Private First Class Samantha Cummings stood at attention holding a stack of boxes, her unwashed black hair slicked back in a ponytail and knotted military style. She stared out from Roberts Shoe Store onto Broadway, transfixed by a […]
As I Understand Them
by Allan Lake He reminds her of his open door policy. Free to go anytime. Says he’d pay her airfare to anywhere if need be. Climate change, glacial break-up.
poems by Felipe Rodolfo Hendriksen
Ode on a Photo Taken Somewhere Around December 2008 A moment frozen in eternity, A picture I’m sure no one remembers But me. A frame, a slice, a moment Of a life that was never fulfilling
poems by Babitha Marina Justin
Flamingo Dance
poems by Joel Schueler
Homage to the Lark The dark rims of his glasses support the magnification of a world of darkness all his own. If I crawl to the vacant church falling emptily from love lost, a loneliness less empty commences per the congregated silences to have fallen through the years. Voices in a sacral act echoing a […]
Not Yet
by Thomas Elson I had driven through the bleached and battered downtown. Across the railroad tracks – once six tracks wide, now two, then the highway – once two-lanes, now four, and entered a neighborhood unseen in over fifty years. The town’s familiar acrid and mossy odors crept through the car vent. Not much […]