One Sentence Poems

Mike Harrell The Projector Suddenly the days moved faster– light flickering through the south window of the parlor as through the lens of an antique projector, shadows leaping erratically across the ceiling, the final reel unspooling in a heap on the floor. Mike Harrell lives in Brooklyn, NY and has been published in Avatar Review, […]

Mike Harrell  What Was Said Give me a call. I don’t have phone numbers, you said, and I thought it was a koan, but I called and though you weren’t there, your voice was, serious and beautiful, and though I didn’t leave a message, I sent mail to the mailbox you don’t have, just to […]