I cut the side of my left thumb, a scissor slip as I was patching the sofa. Elizabeth Schwarzkopf in shaky black and white sang, “Drink to me only with thine eyes.” Mike was tête-à-tête with an astrologer online (prophecy steadieth his fears as music doth mine). The thumb bled a little then stopped as though it thought the effort wasted. If I were in … Continue reading The Cut by Timothy Robbins
Maybe she enjoyed rambling about novels She used to skim in the dark– The night Persephone bluntly shushed me I was going to ask: Got a light, sister? But chickened out, Migraine jotting down words on my head, Her spidery handwriting Pouncing me from my skin: That’s why they all got lost, Teenage years life lent me to give back my soul, Blazing rows among … Continue reading Untitled in Blue by Gabriella Garofalo
My loss of words was an untimely darkness when a late lightning like a desperate bolt showed your island for my sinking boat too late in a forgotten night of the universe. Now my shiver numbs down in an echo of silence and it bloats me and traps me and makes me sink. Sinking, singing, singeing, seeing you were that distant island maybe or maybe … Continue reading Zeus’s Divide: We Became You and I by Sujash Purna
“Who was Nelson Mandela?” I hear a boy ask, standing behind me. I am standing at the bronze bust of the great man beside the Royal Festival Hall, London’s South Bank, “He was a terrorist,” an adult male replies, with a British tongue, “he killed white people in Africa.” Send her victorious, happy and glorious, Long to reign over us, God save the Queen! I … Continue reading Becoming by Athol Williams
I heard a music – wildebeests hooving across a marimba, calling me to the mountain. I followed the call but lost my way, finding Paris instead. Continue reading Lost in Paris by Athol Williams
I carved your bones Into a tree. Discovered you in velvet petals Powdered with pollen, White feathers sullied by soil, Mouth smeared pink with juice, Seeds shining from tiny teeth, Suddenly sullen Inside the wild strawberry plant. Perhaps my hands offend you. They nurture sin. They lose their colour, Pulled back as skin from Godly grape. Abandoned, They spin spider silk, Stand at the edge … Continue reading You by Natalie Crick
We all want to believe we are good. That at the core behind our bad behavior is inherent benevolence. Often, this is why we try so hard being good, as opposed to simply being. Mary Gaitskill’s second novel (we’re not including the short story collections), Veronica, highlights this concept with ease and discomfiture through the medium of her demi-protagonist, Alison. As an attractive girl who has … Continue reading Mary Gaitskill’s Veronica: A Spotlight On Our Motives for Being “Good” For Impure Reasons
This is the part of the day where I reach for empty bottles of yesterday’s complacency I’m parched but incapable of serving myself a drink There is no quick fix when your own body refuses to concede I’m dialing numbers that are out of service paralyzed by thoughts of depletion the threat of today is now a threat of tomorrow What’s a man to do … Continue reading Diminished by Michael Marrotti
There is a common belief among the “writing community” (a term Charles Bukowski would have vomited at) that “writing is rewriting.” For most, this tends to be the case, whether because they prefer the “let me shit it all out” method so that what they’ve ejected from within themselves can be fine-tuned or because, quite simply, they possess no natural talent, and have to work … Continue reading Regina Spektor’s “Edit” Taunt: Not Necessarily True for Everyone
Even though I want no truck with them the relentless click of skateboard wheels over paving stones, the rub of ball bearings down a narrow alley, and the squeak of Vans when they land, will haunt me. Continue reading The Menace by Kate Noakes
