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June 21, 2016 |
in Fiction |
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As I lazed about, freshly woken from a late afternoon nap, my arm tipped the Styrofoam take-out bowl on the stool beside my bed. Emptied of dumplings I had since eaten, it did a quick...
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February 28, 2016 |
in Fiction |
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Sharada died on a day when everyone in the village was sleeping late after the ballet performance by a local troupe as a part of the annual temple festivals that lasted till 3 in the...
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November 7, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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First I pay a visit to Saint Rita to place a white rose at her feet. The rose is a tightly closed bud wrapped in tissue paper, with a tube of water at the end of its stem to keep it fresh....
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September 29, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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The lighting in the department store reminds her of hospitals. She walks through the entrance ignoring the display, a Plexiglas table on top of which are vases in shades of orange, yellow...
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September 15, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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Patty lay on her side, an ancient Lhasa Apso flopped like a throw pillow beside her shoulder. The only sound aside from their breathing was the manic sketching and scratching of eleven...
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June 29, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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When he arrived at our house, his left shoelace was untied. I remember it distinctly because other than that, his appearance was as neat as a choirboy’s. His hair was cut short, army...
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June 28, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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She walked diagonally across the plaza, I saw her first. Julie, Jill, and I were taking a shopping break at an iron table outside the stores. Macy’s bags were smushed around the table...
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June 28, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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I stood at the front door of 2150 Skyview Place and tapped the knocker. It was an impressive house: an old, two-story brick with fat, white pillars. The door swung open. Her hair wasn’t...
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June 24, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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Edith walked into the office reception area, lowered her reading glasses, and gave both girls a look. Laurie saw herself through Edith’s eyes: small, too tight khaki mini-skirt, red hair...
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April 19, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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When she first saw him, Becky was heading into the 7-11 on Harper Avenue to buy a Slurpee, Twizzlers, and a pack of Camels. He was smoking. Vapor drifted from his lips as he leaned into the...
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January 4, 2015 |
in Fiction |
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Before today, it had never really occurred to me that cousin Emily was a normal person. No; that sounds wrong. She was too normal, that was the problem: a middle-aged woman with...
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September 21, 2014 |
in Fiction |
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She’s a grandmother with no grandchildren; both she and her sister Viv have become the childless grandmothers of the town. That’s how she thinks of herself these days, and then...
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September 21, 2014 |
in Fiction |
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Laura considered it an established fact that the female body was a pain in the ass. From youth it was constantly wracked by hurricanes, snow and rain—by cramps and pains, premenstrual...
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June 28, 2014 |
in Fiction |
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It was not until early adulthood that Leila paused to ask herself how and when her sexual awakening had occurred. By the time she had asked the question and had begun to feel than an answer...
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February 14, 2014 |
in Fiction |
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For the New Jersey Four[i] Verniece The whole summer after high school graduation, the weatherman on Channel Nine kept promising a heat wave. Had me dreaming of days curled up under the...
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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
