by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | May 27, 2026 | Featured, Prose
Unsent Dear Gregory, How’s “James Dean” doing? I had a feeling our little stunt would work. I knew the second he saw us kiss, he’d come running back to you (you’re welcome, by the way). It’s kind of sweet how much effort he puts into that...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | May 26, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
I Am Trying to Love Frank O’Hara More I really am! I am trying not to see his exclamation marks as cheap melodrama and his endless conjunctions as some kind of separation anxiety or fear of mortality for what do full stops signify except dying...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | May 25, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Tardigrades A leaky drainpipe drips creating damp patches on uneven paving, slime green algae blossoms forming viridescent ripples like growth rings and soft spongy textured moss gently squeezed produces droplets of moisture; Adam’s ale, an elixir...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | May 24, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Samsara if samsara’s concrete please don’t come back as black jackal for I live in Norwich nor spineless worm as I don’t have a lawn ditto poppy fields with my hay fever nor breeze I don’t open those windows now so I might not hear you nor beige...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | May 23, 2026 | Featured, Prose
THE JUMBLE SALE The entry fee for the jumble sale at the homeless mission costs 20 pence or a pair of men’s jeans. I don’t have a pair of jeans with me would you believe. My quiet piece of silver plinks into the plastic bucket, and I reflect what...
by Zakia Carpenter-Hall | May 22, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Mother Leaves Post-it Notes on my Pillow and Signs with a Smiley I grew up on a farm so I should know all about expensive cows and free milk. You’re taking being a debutante much too literally. We only meant to give permission for you to make a...
