The Pebble – by Rebecca Harrison
Sarah found the pebble on the beach. It was the colour of shaken clouds. She put it in her pocket, took it home, settled it on her bedside table, and went to sleep. In the morning, the pebble had grown – it filled her hands. It was as cool as wind shadows. She held it […]
Untitled Tanka – by Robert Witmer
Each spring I wait The blossoms come And go one after another Like the years You are away
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California Is A Fucking Home Wrecker – by Emily Watterson
We are naked Together When we are fully clothed Save exposed toes And twenty feeble fingers Tracing spine And greeting our corresponding prints with Familiar and distinct satisfaction No sound But the plead and pull of gravitating hips and lips Inconveniently cracked And revived by your invigorating stem of hand There are no words But […]
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Visiting L.A. – by Richard King Perkins II
I’m fond of the ones who leave never having said a word— the ones who speak the silent language fluently at the edge of the slippage between home and homelessness. We struggle to escape the burning continent. The city remains stoic— the oldest appeals condensed on the shores of La Brea. I think I can […]