by Iolana Paedelt cut me with your liesandlet me bleed out,drown in red blood-as i sinkdown,deeper into the dark abyss,still thinking that it’s love,when all you want issee me chokeon your darkness,so you can breathe. i asked you to stay.i said“you don’t have to leave.”you gave me all your words,your promises,and did it anyway.now i don’t know what is more Read More
Tag: nov 18 2019
People Parts
by Roppotucha Greenberg Pamela, my daughter, doesn’t come because she isn’t into graves lately (or Wordsworth or her maths homework), which is a shame. It’s been a year and I’ve grown a nice kitchenette beside the headstone. You know the way it is. At first, you seep. You squelch through the dark, straining at every molecule in your path. You’re Read More
Alone on the Bus
by MJ Christie One ear. One eye. Tattered arms. Tattered legs. Re-sutured seams preserved the life within. Ground-in dirt rouged his cheeks. There was an odour your mum had tried to wash away without success. “Shall we leave Ted at home today?” “No.” You hugged him to your chest. He loved riding the bus. Mum gave in, as always. If Read More
It’s Prom Season in the Wasteland
by Justin Karcher A really big crowis chasing an ice cream truckdown a crusty alleywhere high school studentsare chilling sugar on their tonguesand talking about how their parentswere murdered by breathalyzers high school studentsdrinking too much tap waterpissing in their ancestors’coffee cupsMercury is in retrograde boys and girls in Americacarving search enginesinto cop car tireshoping justice looks for themwhen they Read More
What if Narcissus
by Hannah Storm What if Narcissus had been a father and not a lover What if Echo had been your child and not your vaunted lover,would you still have been doomed to sit by that pond,reflect your wrongs, your own face, or would you only see your Mini-me? Sweet child of yours, when God mademan in his own image, he Read More
Forever Feathers
By Inga Eissmann Buccella Outside – Sitting motionless on the branchShe looked to take the perfect chance To land way down belowOverlooking the brick patio The young hawk stared at the little boyBut the boy – through the glass – played with a toy Inside – father on the phonewept and sounded sad and alone When the man walked back Read More