POETRY (Issue 9)
Our sentences are laborsome
And talk tends to lapse as time goes by
Into periods of nervous quiet
That populate and punctuate the conversations
Of those long parted and seldom seen
POETRY (Issue 8)
I remember that flap parting painfully within me;
my hands were numb with fear and I was cold.
I bled, like most women do.
POETRY (Issue 7)
what a shower is this with a spear of rinse
and a samba terry with diffuse sunlight
making more of real than the world-blur
She floats in air, legs folded under
skirt, not touching the floor.
Writes in littlegirl flowerbooks,
a guru of the dispossessed.
The Indian Leader's Polemic
Shivaji K. Moitra
Rampant corruption and black money have engulfed India;
To make Her healthy, wealthy and clean, what's your idea?"
Anne Jones Weitzer
I am a romantic figure; my long, wavy espresso-brown hair should be bound by vermilion velvet ribbons and nets of golden threads. It is my style.
Evil said, "I don't exist,
so I can do as I please,"
so Evil went shopping,
The copulate of the classes, some sway. Spiny wraiths crying to bind a dejection to a paid-for-TV clod.
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