by Mileva Anastasiadou I’d hate Tuesdays if it weren’t for you. Tuesdays are boring until five, when you arrive. Mom thinks I deserve better, yet mom doesn’t count, for that’s what moms always say. The clock’s ticking, she’ll say next, which doesn’t sound as threatening as she’d like, as what comes to mind is that huge clock on the wall, Read More
Tag: oct 21 2019
Ludicrocity
by Guy Elston A child is prostrate, head on the grass,wailing in an all-consumed fury.His parents stand over him at the edgeof the public golf course wheredogs get walked, his dad holding a knotted plastic bag lump, his Mum a Gucci handbag.They make no attempt to halt his cacophony.Other walkers titter at the sightof the hysterics and the silent resignation.I Read More
Then I’ll Sing
by Ellen Huang response to a classroom poem titled “Stop Talking” The Sea Witch told me speech was uselessSharp and blunt words alike cause woundsThe Blue Fairy told me it’s quite hard to be realPuppetry, trickery leads down to ruin The Emperor told me they’ll see right through meWe all dress things up for a reasonThe Genie told me better Read More
Elegy For The Leaves
by Mir-Yashar Seyedbagheri Leaves dance, flame and golden symphony in the chilling October skies, dancing with the grace of a ballerina, which she once was. She wanders the hills and curves alone, a lone lady in lavender, strolling rugged paths, streams drying up, meandering toward their dry death. Tree branches lean like skeletons, the rain beginning its late autumnal descent. Read More
What Are the Odds?
by E. F. S. Byrne John bumped into a stranger, his head falling onto her shoulder. She shrugged him off. The rattle of carriages filled his ears, swamped his mind, blotted out memories, thoughts, imagination, leaving him with the ceaseless rumble of lives shuttling from one station to the next, squeezing in and out of electronic doorways, minding gaps, diving Read More
Through the Glass
by Lucy Zhang Everyone lives in a glass box; he calls himself their keeper. The slightly curved glass panes extend up and around them, leaving the Munro’s Globemallow peeking from the side of the walkways and the freshly cut grass and artificial hills in plain view. Sometimes he imagines what they see: can they distinguish the Beaked Yucca from Aztec Read More