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October 11, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
of the universe some remnant of prayer shawl, Kippah, candle. Vestment, nun’s habit, incense. The moon can eclipse the sun, the moon’s red and the red beads around grandmother’s neck...
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September 30, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
“…Speak to me. Take my hand. I will tell you all. I will conceal nothing…Fist my mind in your hand. What are you now?…” -from Effort at Speech Between Two People by Muriel...
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June 3, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
STÖRRISCH My art teacher once said “The clay is as it was born” And I think of my mother Her spine cradled me into this I accepted welcoming like a common burdock...
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June 1, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
In the trees, the noonrose like an unmarked shadow,bare and sullen. A cat closed his eyesfor sleep. A cat slumbered inthe darkness of sun. In the window, apoet was imagininga...
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May 11, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
STORY TELLING God raised an eyebrow, twitching nothing into possibility Questions blessed with spit and mistakes Universes quoting Beckett long before college students would ...
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January 11, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
In the cemetery for thwarted artists A breach caused by the storm surge A resurrection: crosses Rise from the snow like wild grasses. We are dealing with categories we...
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January 11, 2021 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
My mother had been saying “I need to get out of here” for several hours. The night before, she had called out into the darkness from her recliner, that she was lost in the woods and...
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January 10, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
LISTEN First he’ll gift me nights tied with cheap Merlot ribbons frayed beneath crescent moons then introduce me to the art of whistling, instruct me to pucker less before...
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January 4, 2021 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
LET X BE THE CENTRE My body builds another body inside itself. My mother gives birth and she is mythless and moonless again and this is what I fear most: her, yellowing in the soft and...
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October 26, 2020 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
It’s not hard to think of yourself, the empty beer bottle, your sleeping wife (on the border of despair), the news that brews disaster after disaster more revelations of harassment...
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October 25, 2020 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
From under the awning, I could hear a sound like small fragmenting pieces of stone crashing into the window. The rain was starting to pour down from above; listening to it for a moment, I...
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October 25, 2020 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
You should never ever use the word vagina in a poem.Better to write about the great wall of Chinaor Nina from Carolina.Better to describe the dinerin the desert of Nevadawith its blue walls...
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October 24, 2020 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
over the Salton Sea, with the aircraft shooting out of the tip of the phallus. We...
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October 24, 2020 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
he spits saliva into bottles containing ships / ponders how far his DNA can take him / the ink on his divorce still glinting / aspires to be stately / in ways he fell short as man of the...
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October 24, 2020 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
admininfin8 |
0
When it came to playing, I lived with two experts. Zack had an imagination that turned the same stick into a dolphin, fishing pole, race car, pencil, or gun all in one day. Scott would...
[new_royalslider id="17"]
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
