The Race A phone that rings out, hollow and forlorn. It pulses through my raw and blistered soul. A sharpened comment, like a toxic
Author: PKey
Working writer based out of Houston.
Three Poems By Kelly Glass
The Bird Who Saw Everything: a Curtal Sonnet From her thicket home, the brown thrasher spied a king and queen’s budding love in the
Three Poems By RC deWinter
Metempsychosis It is from stuff of stars that we are made, sent back again the journey to complete. Each visit then begins a new parade
The Twilight By Roger Stoll
The Twilight (Sestina) She’s sitting in the approaching twilight. Her elbows rest on the arms of the wooden chair. Her hair is wavy, wispy
Two Poems By Jeff Burt
Western Omelet I love an omelet with Rhode Island eggs, comingled with shredded sharp noodle-sized cheese and sprinkled with salsa to give it some
Separate room in heaven By Yuliia Vereta
Separate room in heaven I hope for those people With only three passions in life Namely solitude, cheap coffee and even cheaper cigarettes, There is
Grand Little Things 