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- Poetry > All Poetry
guava juice seeps through the fabric; the stain (stark and sweet), obvious as can be, does not shrink, but merely grow bolder until it cannot flourish any longer and the moist smudge desiccates. the color then loses its blanket of panache; warm zest turns pale (insipid and lonesome) as ... - Poetry > All PoetryThe bus swerved around the corner and abruptly Halted in a frenzy of squeaking brakes. I fumbled through my pocket and Extracted an outdated map, To discover that my destination Had at last presented itself. Clutching my unwieldy luggage, I hastily made my way towards The open door....
- Poetry > All Poetrycoquina shells sprawled about the shore containing the scraps of you and me, shattered and jaundiced with age. they have to sit to keep from drifting into the foaming tethers of the sea. but now you plunge, with little more than the faith that this abyss will reveal its roots, and...
- Poetry > All Poetryi painted a man with distorted features fringed by incessant streaks and eyes dripping of despair. there was a soiled mirror intended for introspection and a washbasin for cogitation beneath a clamped wristwatch. the man was static, melancholy, clutching his head in a defeated manner;...
- Fiction > Historical FictionSetting: It is the year 1832 in the county of Lancashire, England. The scene opens in Cotton Textile Factory #26, where children are lined along the machinery and busy at work. Many are operating the cotton looms, while others are occupied with weaving and spinning. The screeching sound of runnin...
- Poetry > All PoetryThe iridescent image of the annual county carnival vanished from the rear-view mirror as the gray subcompact careened down the highway. In the back seat was a boy; four days past his sixth birthday, a grin smothered across his face, a clenched grip on an inflated plastic bag. Triumph at the beanba...
