Poetry – June

by Maxwell Redder A Father’s Roof I. Terracotta tiles lain on bamboo stalks; fired earthen rain protectors, decorous and new.  The roof of past was treacherous due to brilliant swoops of egret flocks landing, loosening grass ties as they gawked, waiting while others caught up.  Cankerous, thwarted surreptitiously; cancerous, the rotted old roof was carefully […]

May Poetry

by Maxwell Redder A Journey to Discover what I Already Know I. Driving North America’s main arteries, I nod to Hudgins’ Cadillac in the Attic while snapping a shutter, amused that the attic car will never visit Cadillac Ranch; I nod to Amarillo. II. Airplane window.  Vast lines: canyons, roads, and rivers; the Earth’s nervous […]

Art For A Better World – April

by Saad Ghosn I. Images For A Better World: Ricci MICHAELS, Visual Artist Ricci Michaels was born and raised in Philadelphia, the seventh of eight daughters. Encouraged by her teachers, she started painting at a very young age, as far back as kindergarten. She liked to see her pictures hung often in her classroom. Being […]

Poem: Quitting a Job that was Good to Me

by Maxwell Redder I.  Production moving up is a scummy tank whose bubbles always read as green because the budget doesn’t allow for a thorough scrubbing II.  Hierarchy: everyone has eyes that report to other sets like a wave, slowly and always concentrating on the tip: anticipate a breaking point. III.   Low Management (Peace Keepers), […]

Poem: Like Turning off a Light

by Alissa Sammarco Magenheim Like turning off a light, Time stopped The era was ended, And suddenly I sat Staring at myself In the mirror. Fingers tracing lines, Pretending that all my sorrows Were fulfilled and borrowed From someone else. Pretending that sighs stopped And crying had no more food When my laughter Cascaded across […]

Poem: Overheard On The Corner

by Louis Bickett OVERHEARD ON THE CORNER OF BROADWAY & MAIN, LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY Overheard on the street in front of Starbuck’s with a lb. of just ground Sumatra fresh in my nose, a weathered drunk screaming to no one in particular “We don’t need no machine to tell us what to do. We live in […]

Poetry by Daniel Brown

by Daniel Brown Lucy Her eyes of sapphire blue Challenge you under quizzical brows. Like a Vermont wildflower, She was tough and unspoiled. Plucked, She might fail to survive. The girl from those green hills Wanted to try art school. She was our daily server At an elegant small mountain resort. I helped her to […]

Poetry by Maxwell Redder – March

by Maxwell Redder But Little Blips I. Seeping from my brain like sap from a pine, slowly building into a sticky clump. I clean the wax from my ear and ponder is it formed from wasted energy of my pale thoughts — never written on paper — the ones but little blips, like rain particles […]