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SURRENDERING TO THE DARKNESS: Nonfiction by Amanda Boleman
Every single one of us harbors darkness inside with demons waiting to escape – sinful thoughts that creep in or destructive behaviors we act on in moments of weakness. We can try to run and hide from this fact, but the shadow is relentless and always comes back. Leaving Bangkok, I was afraid of...
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This Love Poem Is All You Need to Read Today: Poetry By Jai Rho
She had moonpie eyes and a wildcat smile, draped by slow smooth sip of bourbon hair, the color of corn in the wispy July air And she wore purple and white Irises speckled with yellow as her dress, flowing in the tall grass beneath a willow sky Her feet embraced the earth between her toes,...
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Revisiting the Shooting: Fiction By Michelle Brooks
James rented the room for two nights. He stuffed the key, a plastic card advertising Domino’s Pizza, into his jacket before and drove to Claremont Village where Darrell and his mother still lived. A Jet’s skull cap lay on the passenger seat where it had been for six months, price-tag attached. James had been...
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At first sight: Poetry by RB Wilson
I saw you through the broken screen door beyond the porch light that flickered with moths and made your opal eyes dance behind fine rusted tulle scarred by careless men Was the music that played almost imperceptibly inside your head, or was it in mine? RB Wilson lives in the Imperial Valley. He…
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The Volcano and the Umbrella: Non Fiction by Marianna Marlowe
There must have been a noise, a rustle perhaps, a snapping of twigs underfoot. Something heard then but now forgotten compelled her to look to her side as they hiked up the path through the forest, she and her best friend and their young redheaded teacher. It was with a sense of surreality, of wrongness,…
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You Are Growing Up So Close Behind Me: Poetry by Heidi Turner
“I’ll get there when I get there,” and if I don’t? I wondered that while we sat by the water those years you still needed to look up to me, the graven image of myself I dreaded and remade until I learned who I was, from a distance: I watched you wander woods I planted,…
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Confidence & Fragility in Womanhood: Two Poems by Sarah Lyn Rogers
The Empress she needs a man who knows his anima who can say what he needs or nothing who can bow to the beast in her, mistress of blood, refuse, and rage who sees her like the pomegranate smooth, round, and rosy housing many jagged facets, tumbling into jewels in her belly as…
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Love Beets Flowers: Fiction by William Cass
Very rare: blue moon, bright Mars. Both rose just after sunset that late May evening. I stayed out in the backyard gazing up into the night sky until they were nearly straight overhead. So vivid, they appeared to tremble. Astronomers called their alignment “in opposition”. That seemed apropos; my ex-wife had moved out earlier that…
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Books and Secrets: Fiction by Adreyo Sen
The witch lived in one of the houses facing the field where we played and every now and then, she would emerge in a faded kameez that reached her ankles, a book under her arm, puffing furiously at a cigarette. We were warned not to talk to the witch, who was, our parents…
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Cafones and Cancer: Fiction by Salvatore Difalco
When my father was in the late stages of terminal lung cancer—chemo and two operations had not slowed it down—a group of his friends came to our house to visit him. They had been drinking. Giacchino Palmieri, his godson, the loudest among them, slurred and slobbered greetings to my father, who was already in pajamas…
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Wild Birth: Poetry by S.R. Stewart
S.R. Stewart is a poet living in Portland, Oregon. Her work has been published in both literary journals and newspapers. In her spare time, she camps, bakes, and gardens. Stewart blogs at ifyougiveagirlabook.org.
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Maybe Memories: Two Poems by Christopher Edelen
“Offices” I don’t remember where we were, but I knew it was your office. Crowded, messy. Maybe a supply room. And I’d found a puzzle I wanted to take home. It had rain in diagonals over kids in rain coats, under umbrellas and boots, in a tree house, impossibly high in a lush…
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A Different Love: Poetry by Neil Shah
in loving milieu I’ll dance upon broken boards over bogs that smoke gently in the evening, over rib-cages patched with the enamored and concussed, in such dimly lit admiration I’ll press my tongue into your wine glass, into the almost empty can you hold between your knees, dented, compressed, and full of your spit. …
