by Ókólí Stephen Nonso
A mother ties a white cloth to the door, a quiet flag,
while rain drips from the zinc like a ticking clock.
Boys carry empty bowls past the checkpoints,
dust rising behind them like unspoken prayers. Continue reading
by Ókólí Stephen Nonso
A mother ties a white cloth to the door, a quiet flag,
while rain drips from the zinc like a ticking clock.
Boys carry empty bowls past the checkpoints,
dust rising behind them like unspoken prayers. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Ace Boggess
I walk among droplets,
unconcerned, soothed by scents
of damp earth & wood
masking my smoky breath
the way the smell of baking bread
hides, however briefly, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Eric Paul Shaffer
xxxxx I hear the rain stop, and from the eaves begins
the erratic whisper that sparks the leaves below, drop
xxxxx by drop. Dogs released into the yards bark
at the fences, and children play in the street, splashing Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Dorian Kotsiopoulos
If you trip over it on the way back to bed from the bathroom,
don’t plan on falling back to sleep. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by August Straumanis
This morning I was woken up by a marching band. The parade was in town—horns crashed through the treetops, majorettes passed out smiles like electrocutions to the crowd. A biker gang rode by with a caged tiger in tow, a small mirror lodged in its jaw. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry