The Green Vase my mother busted the lip of the squat, Limoges vase beheaded the ivory figurine splintered the pink Italian terrine. But some how
Author: PKey
Working writer based out of Houston.
Gay Street By Drew Pisarra
Gay Street There’s a little game I like to play when I’m on the street and on my own. What it means I hesitate to
Black Hole By Daril Bentley
Black Hole Lies within ourselves a star burned out— in ourselves, a blinding glory. Pick this rock or any other to burn upon a doubt
Two Poems By Ellen Orr
Classification That sherbet in its cardboard sleeve faux citrus, milky, sweet, and sharply tart—it stabs my jowls. (My mouth is watering even now.) With care
Espionage By Gary Glauber
Espionage Serpentine tendrils of steam waft skyward. None are left to contemplate the political funding behind the shots. Spilled blood makes the price tag illegible.
Lover By Matt Thomas
Lover The stars watch you, same as your face in the lit kitchen window. You looking back at yourself looking away to open the gate,
Grand Little Things 