by Sophia Conway
Only the
hum of the old refrigerator dares
break the stillness of being cut
off from the world.
by Bob Bradshaw
Who could have predicted Godzilla
lumbering out of the waves,
hideously scaled,
by Bob Bradshaw
Your letters home
are like flower catalogs
to a gardener in winter.
They don’t come often enough.
by Sivakami Velliangiri
At mid-day we walked the winding stairways, up and up, till we came to a gallery where the departed play acted … in mock weddings, ran round the gold rimmed red chairs
Read Moreby Mignon Ariel King
Xenophobia for the girl or boy next door has everyone on edge,
yearning for the exotic. The exceptional. The telescopic!
by Royal Rhodes
The sky, but for the lone moon,
is like a canopy of floating crows
extending their oily black wings.
by Brian Michael Barbeito
Outside the window the wind blows cold and that particular town is dirty, grimy.
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