Fiction

Short Story

Wednesday

  It’ll be a Wednesday. It’ll be cloudy outside. There will be fog creeping over the ravine and remnants of an early-morning rain still drifting

Fiction

Falling Short

I saw everyone, having fallen short, on the ground

Poetry

Undressing the Sky

In love with dismal days, he told me why: Won by dimensions, his green eyes caress Big bosomed clouds. Suggestiveness of haze Conjures up Milky

Poetry

When You Grow Up

I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart

Poetry

Where’s Nana?

She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of

Fiction

This Place, it Echoes

  My first real breath of air smells of pine and woodsmoke. It comes to me on a cool breeze, mid-afternoon, a sunny day that