Review of “Station Eleven” by Emily St. John Mandel
Literary sci-fi packed with metaphor, this book itself is proof of its major theme, that the beauty of life makes it worth living, beyond mere survival. The story surrounds two major events: the death of a man, and that of the earth as we know it, with the characters and their storylines sprouting from each. […]
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Review of “The Dollhouse Mirror: Poetry by Frank Watson”
Read more: The Dollhouse Mirror: Poetry by Frank Watson The Fine Line Watson, in many of these poems, has found the fine line. The fine line I mean is the moment before, the blankness between living and dying, or the anticipation of doing in the state of nothing. This, I believe, is the ultimate goal […]
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Dead Babies – by Doug D’Elia
From a distance it looks as if she is carrying a sack of rice, but it’s a dead baby she’ll place at our feet with sad eyes, and a ghost of a chance. As if our magic, our special medicine could heal its napalm burnt, shrapnel infested body. As if we can bring her baby […]
Odds and Ends – by Corey Mesler
I think a twist of metal is a spider. I think a spider is the Antichrist. I think the Antichrist sleeps at my feet. I think I will live forever. I find a note to myself written inside a seashell: There are no odds. I still believe in odds. I still believe in ends. I […]
Scripture – by Tom Holmes
I learned to write watching mother mow the lawn. Back and forth. Ruling perfect lanes that her thin shadow marked. She did this every week – cutting and marking.
Ma – by Ann Quinn
In Japan, Ma is the essential space of nothingness—the empty, the void. I’ve been thinking about the in-between places lately like the space between words and the silence between notes and the summer between school years and the nights between days and how essential the in betweens are and what I’m wondering is if death […]
Chat on the Street – by Anonymous
I love Islam, I also love astronomy. Sisters—say a prayer for me. We will!
Mirror – by Thomas Zimmerman
The river’s mirror flows unseen, then seen, breathes mist that honeys tongues and throats in song, that jewels the threadbare waking mind. The green and black quotidian grows twelvefold strong and infinite. We see that everything is river-fed: the roots and sources, veins and arteries; the constant flux of wing and fin and hoof; the […]