Mark Rutter

      Sandgrains 1 At the hour of long shadows, the sun lights up the crown of the oak. As Bashō lay dying, he told how his soul still wandered the withered moor, startled by the sound of a stream. 2 In the field, snow lit by starlight, hollow stalks...

John Gartland

      The Market in Cheongju. Night A spring night in Cheongju. A thousand mysteries in the elixir of cold oranges. Korean seamstress in the closing market, floor littered with remnants of others’ finery, your head is bowed, machining quiet hours into a...

Bridget Khursheed

      Commute   the water on the road the leaves in beaten hedgerow the beat-up car leaves the water on the car is flicked off by the wipers there onto burnside road the brown water in the burn the hill it scours and turns water stronger than the...

Roberta Chloe Verdant

    Red I wanted to gift you a story. The story would be sunsets over the desert; trees in Asian rainforest; a sky full of stars far from the city. I would scent the story with the finest oils. Strew it with rose petals and pomegranate seeds. Kiss it. I...

Uche Ogbuji

    Hair of the Dog Oh the drinks, nor just a few: Spirits, wine and steins of brew! Bonnet buzzing manic bee. Redde dithyrambic due! He tried prairie oyster brew, Merely made him heave anew; Same sad luck with herbal tea. Redde dithyrambic due! He played...