Boris Kokotov Absence is God’s middle name, his first name lost in translation. Boris Kokotov lives in Baltimore where he writes poems and short stories that appear in periodicals.
Read More04/20/2018 — 0
Poems
04/19/2018 — 0
Tarun Cherian “The Runaway Smile”
Tarun Cherian The Runaway Smile My smile walks away from me, Boards the train bound to Sakleshpur, claims its seat, Next to the mami (auntyji) from Malleshwaram, who pulls out a tiffin filled with murkus, Homemade which you have to say no to with salivating mouth, (Nowadays you know train thieves drug and leave you naked […]
Read More04/18/2018 — 0
J. R. Solonche “Myopia”
J. R. Solonche Myopia The window, a sky composed of a single cloud somewhere near the sun, the desk lamp, a sun diffused through fog rising over a lake, the green blotter on the desk, a lake with rising fog, my glasses on the desk beside the green blotter, a bicycle rusting in the undergrowth […]
Read More04/17/2018 — 0
J. R. Solonche “Botanical Gardens”
J. R. Solonche Botanical Gardens If yellow is the color of joy, then here is joy enough for a city of the miserable, and if red is love’s color, then here is red enough for all the cups of the loveless. J. R. Solonche has been publishing in magazines since the 70s and is the […]
Read More04/16/2018 — 0
J. R. Solonche “Mistake”
J. R. Solonche Mistake It means “an error caused by a lack of skill,” which means a life, a whole life, can be an error caused by a lack of skill. J. R. Solonche has been publishing in magazines since the 70s and is the author of six poetry collections.
Read More04/14/2018 — 0
Scott Lilley “Aged”
Scott Lilley Aged Time flicked the dirt from underneath its fingernails onto our faces. Scott Lilley is twenty years old reading English and Creative Writing at Lancaster University, his work has been featured in The Airgonaut and The Eunoia Review.
Read More04/13/2018 — 0
Peggy Liuzzi “Your hands are cupped …”
Peggy Liuzzi Your hands are cupped but empty in your lap, dry and light as milkweed husks in winter. Peggy Liuzzi lives in snowy Syracuse, NY where she enjoys reading and writing poetry.
Read More04/12/2018 — 0
F. John Sharp “When The Future Was More Fun”
F. John Sharp When The Future Was More Fun It used to be that a dystopian movie or book would be a chance to think, “There’s no way we would ever let the world get like this,” yet here we are, with a front row seat to exactly how the world could get like that. […]
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