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  • Reviews > Book Reviews
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    I discovered the Mistborn trilogy from a BuzzFeed list of fantasy books which should be read despite their awful covers. I was excited to read about the street urchin Vin and the enigmatic thief leader Kelsier. From the plot summary, I expected this book to be Ocean’s Eleven meets Lord of the Ring...
  • Reviews > Book Reviews
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    Chocolat is a poignant novel which deftly illustrates how much people are capable of changing themselves and the people around them. The protagonist Vianne Rocher is an avid wanderer and somewhat of an amateur witch. When she finally alights in a devoutly Catholic French town, she establishes a flam...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    In the summer, we are ourselves. We loll back into the plastic slats of pool chairs, a row of Raggedy Anne dolls, as the sun siphons chlorine from our skin and conversation trails into snug silence. We run out the front door barefoot, prance and squirm when the boiling cement burns our toes,...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Hey, Batman to my Robin, Sam to my Frodo. When: I text at three in the morning, “Where do we bury the body?” You drive out to the hills, And we dig till dawn: We tell curious souls that the dirt under our fingernails is brownie residue from a bake sale. Hey, peach cobbler to my ice cream...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I’ll pull this way, you pull that! I think the wind blew off your hat! One tug left and one tug right; Pulling, straining, what a sight. Faces bright red with exertion! Necks are wet with perspiration! “I’m the right one, you know that Why don’t you let me play diplomat?” “No, no...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Good Sir Mouse lived in a hole in the wall: A decent hole, though rather damp in winter, Wedged into the corner of a rotting Victorian estate, Which was owned by an aging woman who loved potpourri and candles and CATS. The lady did own a rather remarkable feline: Long white fur and pudgy pa...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Eleven stories up, she grips the crumbling stucco façade of the hotel with her toes, curls the arches of her feet over the sharp edge of the windowsill, hands pressed against the stone, knuckles blotchy white. Rush hour traffic crawls far, far below: so many little toy cars. She smiles slight...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    His name was Jerry, or maybe it was really Jeremy that was typed out in neat block letters on his birth certificate, but he liked to think his friends called him Jerry. Sometimes he questioned whether he actually had friends, when he had had eight-nine-ten shots of good strong scotch, (they eventual...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You are no longer the flesh and blood I thought you were, Distorted into gigabytes and type-type-typed letters Hiding behind that blinking screen The black and white has sucked the soul, the flaming colors Right out of your words. Saying what you mean but not meaning what you say! How do I s...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    In the city's Autumn, the earth heaves a sigh And sheds its green skin in escape, Trees bleed red, orangey-yellow ichor, Pain and bliss and sweet relief muddled like watercolors, And the leaves whisper a beat into the wind Rebirth. Decay. The beginning and the end. Just in this Autumn, t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    She waltzes on her mother’s flowery grave Through thorns that prick her dirty bloodied feet She weeps, her lonely heart cannot be saved Sings a melody she can’t repeat. La la la la, she twists and spins around Looks up to curse the splendid starry sky Looks down to scream out loud and stom...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Music is that strange beast that takes away my breath to push life into earth....
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    I learned to shape words into fragile existence with a swipe of ink. You taught me how to give worth to the little thoughts swirling in my head. You learned to fill cream colored paper with loud shades: turquoise, amber, green. I taught you how to speak your hurt, anger, sadness in ...
  • Reviews > Book Reviews
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    Who of us has not contemplated the possibility of receiving a letter in emerald-green ink on our eleventh birthday, or perhaps opening a dusty wardrobe to find a door to an enchanted world? These were our secret childhood dreams. We knew that these things could not happen and yet we still pined for ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The day ended with sinking into the enveloping folds of the old leather couch in the living room for Karli, silently clenching and unclenching her frozen fingers and imagining the fleshy skin of her stepfather’s neck within her grasp. The satisfying give of breaking skin and soft trickles of oozin...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Leave me, and I will vanish. Stay with me, and I will shatter into a billion fragments of bitterness. Separate me from you, and I am forever incomplete. In this dark fairy tale where we are together, I die slowly a thousand times, and my lives fly away on paper birds with chained souls. Say th...

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