poems by Doug Tanoury
Domestic Reliquary There is a wicker basket in the kitchen on a shelf under the coffee maker that holds a wild mix of wayward things,
poems by Partha Sarkar
Mistakenly spread the gold coins Mistakenly spread the gold coins In the wrong hemisphere Of the paradise
Imperator
by Anca Cristofovici There is an apartment for sale at 119 Promenade des Anglais, in Nice. Writer Joseph Roth stayed there with his friend Hermann Kesten on several occasions in the — more nomadic than ever — last years of his life.
Surviving in the Back Pew
by Danyl A. Doyle The wealthy folks of Delta put their noses in the air and snubbed us poor people, especially me, when they discovered I was making a living on my back. I was as disgusted at myself as they were, but I had no choice since my Honda Civic’s motor had exploded and […]
What does it Mean to Have Soul?
by Leon Miller People are involved in a life endeavor that is aesthetic in nature. They endeavor to make their life into a beautiful experience. [Michael Foucault] In most cultures people make some type of reference to having soul. One of the most popular examples has to do with reference to the innermost essence of […]
poems by Kevin Armor Harris
Fragments [homage à György Kurtág, February 2026] 1 Some . times . we pause . and dispel while words shed their ragged guise while words outlast their quivering.
poem by Thomas Piekarski
Corpus Mundi Nietzsche and Me After thundershowers an array of autumn colors paints the wetted landscape
poems by Alex Rainey Ward
Folly Beach I don’t know if Folly Beach is bad luck or what I guess the name says it I’ve seen terns there rippling like flags
Cufărul Povestașei
de Lucia Eniu „Iată că s-au scurs mai bine de cincizeci de ani de când îndur monotonia vieții reale și n-am găsit înlocuitor mai bun pentru frământările care o devorează decât bucuria ascultării poveștilor și meșteșugul de a le spune, pe care mi l-am însușit și eu.” [Charles Nodier]
Proze absurd-realiste
de Mălina Rianna Iancu Proza 1 — Biletul de ordine În dimineața aceea, orașul se trezi cu o coadă nouă. Nu era o coadă la pâine, nici la autobuz, nici măcar la vreun concert. Era o coadă pentru ordine.