by Debasish Mishra
Carcasses float in rivers
a head here and a torso there
like offerings in Tibetan sky
burials harpooned by hungry
vultures that splash the air
with blood and fear of death
The pulsating ripples of death
dance in the blood-steeped rivers
and scatter in the venomous air
like smoldering corpses. There
is little hope for the hungry
hapless eyes that gaze the sky Continue reading
by Jamin Stortz
It had been three weeks since my brother left before I entered his room. I couldn’t bear it, preferring to leave the door closed and, with it, the possibility that he was still behind it, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall listening to music with his eyes closed like he always did. It was good that he was gone, I would tell myself, repeatedly, despite the sickness in my stomach that told me otherwise. Mom said he was better off, though she couldn’t look me in the eye when she said it. Continue reading
by Mickie Kennedy
My mother grew up near Chernobyl, decided to go to her aunt’s house after the accident. Her brother stayed behind, a good soldier taking orders. He moved concrete blocks and bags of sand, developed a sunburn despite being inside.
They rotated him out and he spent a few days in the hospital, mostly for observation. Other men fared much worse: some made it, others did not. One told him that he watched the sun set behind blackened crops and knew he too was withering on the vine. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Jackie K. White
Facing it, you debate being told how light
the unbreathing body is,
when her blood, how heavy, her bone, are
gone now to stone.
On one side: her name, dates, a hopeful
verse. On the blank side: Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Chip Livingston
Some an’ time jumbie dem do crash a party.
Some an’ time dem jumbie t’row dey own.
“What’s that even mean?” Kyle whispered.
I used my normal voice, noting how he tends to whisper in the dark. “According to the guidebook back at the eco-tent, jumbies are invisible spirits, tricksters, a type of duende or little people. This is one of the most secluded beaches on the island.”
“You think it’s safe at night?” Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
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