Categoría: little chews
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“Temptation” by Gargi Sidana
Apple- eye lenses Vermillion skin Cotton-laced fingers Thy brothel of my heart Succulent and placid Tranquility sits on your lips Petunia dabbing swollen blues Swirling around! Swirling around! In a loop of adultery Bomb-shell gaze Cherry-kissed lips Rectangular laughter I call you my eveAh! I ate the forbidden fruit Fruit…
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Odes to Buddhism, Part 1, by Yongbo Ma
Selflessness Amid Mountains and Rivers A Buddhist temple perches on mountains, framed like a painted scroll,Half hidden in wooded valleys, half soaring into azure heights.A secluded nook peeks out amid a thousand peaks.Majestic ridges form an expansive courtyard of ten thousand hills.From shallow perception to profound integration with all creation,From…
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“Gesture Poses” by Bill Tope
The girl on the modeling platform was not nude–she was naked. Working for the university’s Art Department, she reluctantly provided a randy art instructor with a spectacular fantasy life. In his mind, he raped her again and again. Nor was he subtle about it. He coaxed her to assume a…
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“Shadows of Silence” by Alice Baburek
The parking lot was empty.Estelle Lancer studied her cell phone as she stepped outside. It was 3 p.m., and there was no service. She looked up to find her vehicle, but to her amazement, there were no cars—not one. The concrete area was overgrown with weeds. Dark clouds hovered above.…
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“My Best Friend” by Bill Tope
Dr. Arnold Schopp, DVM, glanced at the caller ID; he didn’t recognize the number. The time was 5 am. Picking up his landline, he said, “Hello?” “Oh! Hi! My name’s Livy. You don’t know me, but I got your number from the men’s washroom at The Stagger Inn, the tavern…
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“The Fawn in the Forest” by Matias Travieso-Diaz
So they walked on together through the wood, Alice with her arms clasped lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air, and shook itself free from Alice’s arms. «I’m a Fawn!»…
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2 Poems by John Yamrus
he knew her as Nancy, but, sheremindedhim of Jane, so,just to be safe,he called her Debbie, and atthe end of the day,it really didn’t matter, becausehe only saw her once, and thatwas the summerhe turned seventeen, andhe knewas sure as Shakespeare did, thatall the world’s a stage. ~~ wearing only…
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“Lost in Translation: Three Poems” by John RC Potter
Sometimes Sometimes,I miss you.I can’t forget you.You’re not far awaybecause I can never forget Indonesia.I remember one daywe went to a mountain.This mountain is too high,you said to me.You can’t climb;foreigners can’t do it,turn around, go back!But we walked there,to the top of the mountain.You and me, together.At the top,…
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“Beers and Moonshine” by Peter Lingard
After work on Friday, my friends and I headed to the beach for a barbecue. Those who got off early dug a pit and started the fire. Latecomers like me went to a supermarket near the town square and purchased beer and food. Patsy brought bottles of her dad’s homemade…
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“Confabulation” by Bill Tope
Paulie sat in the lurid orange beanbag chair in what passed for the living room of his hovel. He extended his thin legs, and his house slippers hung off his feet, then slipped to the uncarpeted floor with a little plop. Paulie gazed at his cell phone and saw a…
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World Weary: A Poetic Triad by John RC Potter
“Birds in the Setting Sun” artwork by the author’s god-daughter, Nisa Winter Existential Navigation From last year’s eclipse, when all looked skyward,to yet another earthquake last week in Istanbul;from a darkened sky denoting a world on fire,to when I felt the foundations of our world shake: It is existential navigation.…
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“Mrs. Buttersworth” by Bill Tope
The cold autumn wind rustling through the many trees made a sound like parched bones rattling in a dried, brittle skeleton. The few remaining birds fluttered away as the brown, papery, deeply-veined leaves tossed to and fro. A light rain began to fall. Below the canopy of leaves stood two…
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“woman singing red falling as a waterfall” by Yongbo Ma, Helen Pletts, and Nolcha Fox
and a solitary shadow wading into the redalong with the notes and their shady flow,the red stairs are light flux and musicand black night switches their shimmer full on (Helen) She is a white bird warbling, lighting up the night.Notes escape her throat and tumble downthe red stairs of passion,…
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