e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
by Douglas Young “Guess who’s coming to the campus coliseum?” Zora greeted Zarius in the hall with a wide-eyed grin as he left the classroom. Zarius got ever more excited as his friend leaned in closer boasting a thoroughly pregnant smile about to birth a big laugh. As he blinked and imagined a […]
by Ella Leynard I was in the Globe Theatre to see the performance of “Hamlet” (1600-1601), a couple of days ago. I do love the rich costumes they wear and the sound of the words. I suspect some are invented by Shakespeare himself. Seldom can anyone afford to do it, because language resists the sudden […]
by Doru Chirodea 44. Killin time last night in me crib. By chance, a friend of mine, a surgeon from Munich Germany, drops by. So, I go, you kinda butcher, right?
Like Runes I know it must be poetry because it seems a
*** The eventide. The cold. The bus has left. It left behind an empty stop.
from Pond Life : 29th May White Feather In May I remember October’s road, drenched sodden dips full of flood.
It all Happened On An Intangible Morning in the Middle Of Whispers On an intangible morning in the middle of whispers,
Dealing With The Government Bureaucrats with their offending eyes, sinister thick and meaty blackbirds
by Daniel de Culla A Congress of Writers and Poets coming from all over the Globe was being held at the Atocha Hotel Madrid, promoted by the World Poetry Movement, of which I was the official Delegate for Madrid and the two Castiles.
by Douglas Young At 10 o’clock on a warm August morning, an old but immaculate big blue Buick slowly pulled up and parked by the front gate of the largest section in Serenity Springs Cemetery, Azalea Falls’ oldest, biggest burial ground. Heavy-set, eighty-two-year-old Averilla Finney and her almost as heavy-set, eighty-year-old sister, Zabel, slowly emerged […]