March 2025
Volume 8, Issue 2
In this issue
Poetry
A Passaggio for The Knights
(Caravaggio painted The Beheading of St John in gratitude for his passaggio (or admission) into the / Knights of Malta in 1607) / When a tragedy…
Poetry
Wignacourt and Page
A portrait designed exclusively to flatter: / the Grand Master of the Order of Malta, / rivet-plated, fully armoured, more stag beetle / than man, human…
Poetry
Oubliette
I painted the light out of Christ / now I’ve broken the night’s code / gutted the Gospels at a stroke / reduced to a single cell / I’m a swan carved in…
Poetry
The Good Samaritan
“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers.
Flash
Standards
Quibble has fallen for the counter girl at the Dillard’s in the nearest shopping mall.
By Ken Poyner
Flash
The Duality Trap
Quibble can tell the difference between what is real and what is his imagination.
By Ken Poyner
Flash
The Partisan
The plan is to change the river’s flow so it runs through houses across the street.
By Ken Poyner
Flash
Value
When the fish spoke, he expected he was the subject of a joke: there was an amateur ventriloquist afoot.
By Ken Poyner
Poetry
Prachuap Khiri Khan
On the walk to Hasu Gyoza, sun / Flaring over wires, above the / Irrelevance of a church spire, concrete wall / Sun-blackened by striations, I’m thinking…
Poetry
Torturous Shoes
Barbie doll, your feet were destined / for those sky-high heels, / extremities so arched and ever bending, / but plastic feet / as dainty as yours are /…
Poetry
Play My Hand
When it came to classroom projects / And the teacher asked students / To choose whomever they wanted / To be on a team with, I was / Either picked / Dead…
By Dee Allen
Poetry
Mute Witnesses
The evening stars / Are mute witnesses / To passers-by / On cobblestone road, / The lights in / The café terrace / And nearby tenements / And chic…
By Dee Allen
Poetry
Fog of Time
My mind is like a fogbank, / more so now that I am in my ninth decade, / less than it will be in a few years. / Sometimes I can’t recall the names / of…
Poetry
Garden Diary, Wednesday 10 a.m.
A parade of roses welcomes visitors: / hi, they say, whispering sweet nothings / in a voice filled with rainbow hues, / not knowing their leaves will…
Poetry
The Tree Trunk
Hollowed out, as full of black miasma / As a tea bowl; ants skittle around / Its ringless rim, while down below / The roots wash up from the ocean / Of…
Poetry
Botheration
Steamy summer’s day, / insects are on the prowl / competing with my swats / for the available air. / It should be gratifying / that at least something /…
By John Grey
Fiction
Ice Attack
Named within the prose: CELEBRAS TIWARI – Intergalactic business magnate and owner of Tiwari Morplex.
By Noah Galea
Poetry
Breathing
The barks of a pack / of dogs echo / echo down the empty streets / Breathe slow / one-two / Breathe deep / three-four / A car alarm sounds, / the wind…
Poetry
Midday Minuet
High / wispy clouds / dance across this / noon sky, nebulous ribbons / pirouetting around the / bright white / sun
Poetry
To a Home that was not my own
I hated your smile the warmth of your touch the gentle / violence of your hands as you forced a strange tongue / into my mouth and even stranger faces…
By Annie ZH Sun
Poetry
My Africa
Land of my ancestors / Today you call me and I ponder / I’m a stranger to your rooster’s morning crow / To the natural smell of your plants / Adding…
Poetry
Truth & Reconciliation
If you had asked me / I would have shared with you / My land my ways even my heart / But you wanted it all / You took my home from me / Carrying me far…
Poetry
Wild Fire
At the end of days / They say we will not know / Our own roofs from the midnight sky / Whether to fling our barrels / Or capture our last gasps within…
Poetry
A Handful of Dust
One hand holds the sands / of time within its grasp. / See / the granules seeping past / clutched fingers? / I am the relic, drawn up / from tear parched…
Poetry
The Dreams of Howard Kirk
Outside The Falls Library / Magpies sound like sewing machines. / Inside, mass typing / Echoes their chattering. / One day, our messages / Will arrive…
Poetry
For GG
On my last bender I saw / Apollonius of Tyana / In my shaving mirror, / And gasped / Until the glass / Steamed over. / Then, corpse candles / In the…
Creative nonfiction
Tumbling Down a Staircase: A Scene from My Writing Life
I’m reviewing my manuscript in Farley’s café, right across the street from Bloom’s Saloon— which I recommend if you’re ever looking for an adult beverage…
By Greg Roensch
