by Matthew Marcott Black muck teeters to Broken gravel. Streetlights Lit to a hung jury. The Drunkard’s Quarter: Frenchman’s Lane. Dreams A James-son straight. Boasts, ‘I chopped ye head off, …
The Drunkard’s Quarter
Category: Poetry
Back to You
by Judy Chin I’ve been gone for long Because I’m heading towards what I need to be. Occasionally I see her. Times like these, I wish I could go back. …
Appropriate
by Beth Ann Mastromarino The Silk Road laughs as Hebrew letters ride Epona’s back through Neptune’s loamy sighs. Caravans in ports of call melt nightly, Form one society of golden …
Untitled
by Jimmy Krause They say you die the last time anyone speaks your name. I will be anonymous. I will live nameless. I will live forever. Without a name, I …
Paradox
by Jimmy Krause Gone is my will to live, but fear keeps me from dying. Gone is my want to be loved, but I long for someone to hold. Gone …
My Romantic Affair with Books
by Oyindamola Shoola This morning, before leaving for the church, you part me in two, somewhere around the place we left off last night. Your fingers hang in places; trying …