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September 7, 2025 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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Upon rising, the sun sends its rays and warmth down into the roots and soil, down into the earth. And across the surfaces on this side of sunup. Its reflection strikes the glass windows and...
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August 26, 2025 |
in Poetry |
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Seeping, lingering through like the smell of cigarettesI cannot lie nor can I tell you the truth. But still that resentment burned slowSteady, then fast like puffed cigarettes. Held to...
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November 2, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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at reed side scatter gray wings black wings black wings with red shoulders Lucian Staiano-Daniels is a third generation writer of classical Japanese poetry in English and a...
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November 1, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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DREAM OF A COMMON LANGUAGE I dreamed last night I was drowningin your wreck, salt breaking meagainst coral and steel, while tideripped me further from shorewith...
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October 31, 2024 |
in Fiction |
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Aileen was to be another triumph for artificial intelligence. Ever since Big Blue clobbered chess champion Gary Kasparov, machines had leveled the vaunted bastions of human intelligence. ...
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October 31, 2024 |
in Fiction |
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Inspired in part by Annibale Carraci’s painting The Bean Eater (c. 1580-1590) and Giuseppe Arcimboldo’s fruit and vegetable “portraits” (c. 1590) “Boil us, bake us,...
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October 31, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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BISQUES So many heads thrown on the potter’s wheel to be turned and born too early, unable to open half- closed eyes. Impossible for an infant to hold its head up. We press the...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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One April Sunday, several months after Grandpa’s funeral, Dad and I drive in search of wild asparagus. Cruising side roads near our home on the outskirts of Ann Arbor, he drives slowly,...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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In the weeks before Halloween, edging to the end of the interminable election, I found myself obsessed with the silent vampire classic Nosferatu. The whys for my obsession are murky...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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Down Smokey Road Deep in the holler Edge of the woods A plain white house At first glance An ordinary dwelling But with unusually Tiny windows Brandishes strident Political preferences From...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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“Alabama Supreme Court Rules That Frozen Embryos Are ‘Children” – Taylor Mitchell, Huffington Post What came first the chicken or the egg? The Alabama Supreme Court...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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Aditi Bhattacharjee is an Indian writer currently based in New York. Her work has appeared or is upcoming in Alipore Post, Gone Lawn, Solstice Literary Magazine, Lunch Ticket Magazine, Sky...
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October 30, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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0
Based on the complete abortion ban mentioned in the Project 2025 Manifesto. Severely limiting abortion access nationwide by reversing the FDA’s approval of mifepristone, a drug used in...
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October 29, 2024 |
in Fiction |
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A broken clothesline leans against its shadow nothing to hang memories on through the stillness of the desert landscape I meander fragrance of creosote bush underfoot dry winds blow...
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April 5, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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SPRING EGRET Last summer this egret high-stepped the salt marsh a white puff of grace more follies fan than bird keen eyes keeping watch in the body’s long curves...
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Ana Flores is a sculptor and ecologist. Her work is informed by how pla
2 Poems
Let Me Straddle Your Mind
The Crusader
Yeah bring our electric shaver back, I bought it we shaved each others back
it was important to me
Kwame Dawes
1
Yes, we were country, lived in shotgun
shacks, where the road loses its way
to dirt and live 
[new_royalslider id="11"]
Courtesy of the artist and Mizuma Art Gallery
"Feminism is a socialist, anti-family, political movement that encourages women to lea
Junot' Diaz
and Edison, NJ
The first time we try to deliver the Gold Crown the lights are on in the house but no on
Elegy & Poem
"We are all the other."
…and find inside a picture,
of myself as a child, sitting
on a small chair, wearing overalls
an
Raphael Perez
To Alex, on turning two
Some say the Ring of Brogar
is the Circle of the Moon.
There is n
March on Washington
An Interview with Cheryl Evans
In a strange twist of what seemed
like reverse vandalism, the Graffiti
Mecca was painted over. 
Forest Gander
A Translation
Quassan Castro, poem
Grandson to Grandmother
Wynwood Walls, of Miami has been called "a Museum of the Streets."
Low like the mean dream
of Newark the sky must
have seemed to its builders.
Rickety now, unhingin
At last, the extremes
of his present methods
seemed to offer
the happiest avenues.
The strengthe
5th Limb
Poems
Poem, Knot
Poem, Look This Way
Xue Du, Poem
A woman in a black kimono dyed black hair
disappeared behind a black curtai
Poem:
Behind the War On Women
Maria Mizzotti-Gillan
Short Story
Pilar Fraile Amador
poem
Lady Haiti
David Trinidad
Landzy Theodore
Angelo Nikolopoulos
