Mars by Mark Gilbert
We started it. We crashed a crunchof metal and gadgetsinto their dustno wonder they retaliatedno wonderthey killed us allin fourteen slow minutesfifteen years laterwhen our paths crossedagain. ____________________________________________________________ Mark Gilbert writes poetry and prose and in between. His work may be found in Atlas Poetica, Abyss & Apex, Narrow Road…
Rusty Mill-Stones of History by Lazarus Trubman
Months passed since I was liberated from the underground labor camp in Orhey Forest, Moldova. Behind were scary blood transfusions, dental tortures and endless chats with a bunch of cardiologists. I finally got my so-so bill of health and was waiting patiently for the slow-moving Soviet Immigration Office to approve…
Instructions for Attending Sunday’s Anti-Time Travel March by Liam Hogan
Thank you for registering your interest in Sunday’s march. We can’t do it without your support and we sincerely hope to see you there. It’s important that as many protesters as possible show up, to demonstrate the depth of anti-time travel feeling. The route of the march as indicated on…
In Bed at Night by Rickey Rivers Jr.
Quite round bellyshining in the moonlight,the woman lays,eyes on the ceiling,her mind a highway.She is alone.Where does he roam?Why isn’t he home? A kick from inside,no pain,and yet she weeps.Time is a bother.It is as the moon,very still,very quiet,circular. In waiting, the night leaves her.She is alone.Where does he roam?Why isn’t…
Thread and its Origin by Shawn Anto
I am not able to hush these thoughts or hush a jagged smile between shivering lips a joke, a chuckle I feed on when I think of you & dad’s best friend when I was six years old that urgency swept in—looking back fifteen years later, ignorant bliss as smoke…
The Timekeeper by Sarah Etlinger
You kept time beads in a drawerthat you showed methe first time we met.You pulled it openand there they were:smooth beads nearlyvibrating, encased in the velvetarms of the drawerlike so many millionsof porcelain eyes. Amidst a handful of morninglight through the windowyou placed one on my bare chestand I felt the day…
RPM by Aditya Shankar
The beach is aminiature of the timelinethat unfurls like a classroom chart. Roll your cycle along the shore:history is adjacent and deep,like the sea. The wind, kind enough to graze you with its eternal fingers. The wave, perfected over centuries,to die at your feet. ____________________________________________________________ Aditya Shankar is an Indian poet,…
Between Me and Neverland by Stephanie J. Andersen
I’m all grown up now, approaching forty, a mother of two small girls who believe in fairies and magic. With them, I stand before the peanut butter at the grocery store. As they languish in boredom, one in the cart and one out, I spot Peter Pan, a little green figure…
Dien Bien Phu, 1954 by Wayne Turmel
Camp Isabelle, Vietnam Huong Lan was the Lieutenant’s one indulgence. Her name meant Fragrant Orchid, or Fragrance of the Orchid, he could never remember which. The chicken-clucking Vietnamese tongue was more than he could handle, despite valiant efforts to teach him basic vocabulary and grammar. Still, she both cooked and…
Tempest by Tyler Wettig
A house, a dog, a couch, two cats: onefor each arm, another to hide from me.Lear’s wife, of course, nowhere to be found,but daughters here to pillage the old fool:his half-eaten memoir, nibbled on betweenbrandy bites, is the wedding cabernetgathering dust on the fridge. Everydream is about Grandpa rearrangingfurniture as…
Take Us On A Journey To Somewhen
