LITERATURE

Without shelter

Sunil Sharma Daily— Pigeons and crows Perch on the cable lines In the neighbourhood— The feathered citizens Rendered homeless By a cynical builder lobby, For the overpriced Skyscrapers named after birds. Sunil Sharma is a Mumbai-based senior academic, critic, literary editor… Read More ›

Mobile Psychosis

Patricia Walsh Finally, in a blank silence, leaving in a stalematehypocritically eating in an untitled way,shutting down production, burning recordsdying while clean, shouting the oddsa residual home failing even the burning. Acknowledgement through annoyance, unheard silencebeing truthful to type, invading… Read More ›

The Lost Years

Bruce Macrae In and around myself, gone adrift,AWOL to social norms and mores…I was perfecting human error, if asked,the little rebel without a get-out clause,the born loser bearing loss and the cost of it. Last millennia, at the turn of… Read More ›

THE SILENCE OF TILES

Chad Norman In Memory of the Barho children How a floor has nothing to sayis really about a lack of listening,a lack of hearing, is really aboutthe accumulation of dust leftby a lack of human awareness,or a floor that has… Read More ›

Duty of The One Grieving

Kushal Poddar The table shoulders the bottleall day for several days.Its sense of duty nails the way:it is fleshed to last for a century – at least. And I reach for the bottle, topple it,press my hands on the table,plummet… Read More ›

Ruined

Christopher Moore The apples are still standing. I had a feeling my eyes would be drawn to them first, and sure enough, the moment I first walk through the gates, they are.  One of them, a brilliant red, eaten through… Read More ›

ICE COLD WATER

Elizabeth Bruce “One dollar. Ice cold water, right here.” A young black man wove between the cars hovering at the intersection of North Capital Street and New York Avenue in the nation’s capital. Jack watched the sweat roll down the… Read More ›

3 Haiku by David Estringel

“Contentment” Suck’n gin from ice cubes,clouds drift across pale azure.Crickets join the fun. “Pyre” Hungry flames that lick,devour this flesh that binds andlet my soul be free. “Solace #2” Words collapse on tongues–wicker baskets of water–without poetry. David Estringel is… Read More ›

Clark

Kahlil Crawford fohawk stylings from punk queen Jane…she had Iggy Pop stories so I read trainspotting. scottish vernacular and swedish nationalism provoked an uprooting of Roots. my online shopping addiction and used art monographs suddenly became meaningless. my bible college… Read More ›