Neil Reeder

Quicksand My room is quiet; I’ve woken surreptitiously. The day feels early, so ready for sunshine – and it must be Saturday, a time with a chance to wander in woods beneath a patina of leaves; along my spine comes a shiver of bliss in freedom, and slowly...

Isabella Grabski

The Midnight Gentlemen all those midnight gentlemen, with their cultured bones shaped so finely and their eyes like glass beads, glinting dull coins in the moonlight- i can see them traipsing through the living room, up the stairs, their spindly fingers...

Virginie Colline

Four Haiku the bride bites into a rosebud flight of white napkins in the breeze * Arabian dream a sandarac tear captures the sun * moonlit Paris the glimmering scales of the sea monster * after the storm she cracked her door he held his breath     Virginie...

Roy Marshall

Arm Wrestling with Nonno My mother told me how he altered the river’s course, how those muscles were forged in the icy torrent where he shifted boulders. An alpine soldier of the first war, later self-announced target of Fascist batons and castor oil; Fireman,...