In Transit Unemployed’s tube journey: For those safe, definable few minutes there is the duality Of oneself and the comfort of the seat – the circle; Seal; it chops perfectly, crossing the antilinear. It induces connexity; the most complete awareness of the toil and monotony which went into making the tube, and the seat inside the train inside […]
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ALAS – By Elaine Nadal I was told I have her eyes, her thick brows– didn’t think much of it: We all have something of someone. My sister has Aunt Natalia’s smile. My brother has Uncle Silo’s curly hair (back in the day when my uncle had hair). I was just glad I didn’t inherit Aunt Rosa’s squared shape. […]
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On Purpose By: Chanacee Ruth-Killgore Not on water do I walk and, it’s true, I’m challenged by dry land. I can do, though, what I can. It is that alone which matters. All else lingers… shiny and superfluous, full of false promises and deception. I can, however, is honest, humble, bold! And I know that which I can is the must […]
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SILENT WINTER (By Robert Trabold) Bitter cold – wind touch the bones. Snow coming – came same weather – no change. I have to stay home not many activities outside – meetings cancelled too cold. Change for me – have time on my hands. I am always busy many things to do. Quiet descends on […]
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Hartwell Lake Across the street from the lake house there is a bait shop. I go there to get gasoline for the boat. I can see the green swells, that slowly turn to navy. The wind forgets the clouds like the ones I forget. The sun is on my shoulders, as far as the wake I leave behind. Blue sky […]
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Enigma – By Elaine Nadal The bells tolled. I heard them. S l o w l y LOUDER Numbing my body. Obscuring my vision. Searching for color in my subconscious… I found images: games, gatherings, horse rides– artifices sufficing for a time. An unrecognizable figure putrefied instantly, leaving ashes S E E P I N G It burns. My […]
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HOW LEAVING HOME WORKS I need highways, infrastructure that can differentiate between the town where I grew up and the place I need to be. And a Ford that’s up to it, getting on but faithful, its leather bucket seats faded from their prime, but radio rock stations all preset and fifty times louder than the engine. Blacktop, […]
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An hour a day, sometimes more, I chipped away with mallet and chisel on a block of marble I found in Carrara and shipped to New York on the deck of a trawler. I offered the marble to a famous sculptor who told me he works in granite only so I grabbed his beret and one of his smocks […]
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In this small, blue room— overheated, clenched by melancholy, I sit the night, guarding carnival goods, blood potions, the knife thrower’s serrated blades. Two buskers beach-walk a tune, harmonies muffled by wave’s insistence. A mathematical conceit of stars burning to earth enriches water’s lap against pier beams, a night sailor’s crossing. Taken on as apprentice, the alchemist insists […]
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Stone Slate – By Melissa R. Mendelson They tell me that I am alive. If that were so, shouldn’t I breathe? Listen to your heart, and I’m stupid for listening once more. I don’t hear anything. Check your pulse. “I am checking,” I scream. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. How could they tell me what they tell me, and how could I […]
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