A Literary Magazine Sponsored by The University of Maine at Farmington
by Thanisha Santhosh “The cure for most things” While trying to find a cure for AIDS, scientists in the Mayo clinic created glow-in-the-dark cats -imagine a whole family made bioluminescent- mother … Continue Reading “The cure for most things,” “Pamplemousse,” and “Your Succulents And Other Reasons To Stay”
by S. J. Stephens “Between Dreams and Place” Sun, betrayed by late-winter breeze warms my skin through deck slats. I close my eyes and raise to the heat, in quiet … Continue Reading “Between Dreams and Place ” and “A Constant Punch”
by Nwuguru Chidiebere Sullivan Nwuguru Chidiebere Sullivan is a keen writer of Izzi, Abakaliki ancestry. He is a medical laboratory science student, a Forward Prize nominee, a Best of the Net nominee, and … Continue Reading “underwater”
by Nattie O’Sheggzy “A NIGHT WITH HENRY JAMES” I know I must have offended some god The colour of which I cannot discern With these sleep-drought eyes Stretched taut with … Continue Reading “A Night With Henry James” and “The Making of an Old Season”
by R. T. Castleberry “TO BEAUTY, UNFAMILIAR” On smoke-drift Sundays, wintry morning winds, the amused allure of dead romance wrings wry couplets, astringent rules of discourse. Both sides rescued from … Continue Reading “To Beauty, Unfamiliar” and “Leaving the War”
By Lucia Haase Phantoms of fogwalk into morningthroughout the forest,stretching – yawning… secreted faunain shadows, creepby fern and brackenyet asleep. Cool winds howl,a kind of calling-forest wolveshunting…crawling. Watchers watchingin the … Continue Reading Episode
By Rachel Tanner sunday mornings we wake and you stretch limbs over me protectively,kiss my forehead, breathe my own nameback into my mouth. we’ve been doing thisfor months now and it … Continue Reading sundays
By William Heath The pickers are long gone,just a few men have jobs.Cotton choppers replaced bycrop-dusting planes sprayingweed-killing poison. Greenmachines resembling giganticgrasshoppers, bloated binsfor bellies, gobble cotton,leaving only the ends … Continue Reading The Shack
By Alyssa Pickarts The disgusting algae attached tomy mother’s favorite porch windowmakes me wanna gag. The bioluminescent greenlooks like my father‘s fungi foot. “It’s called Athletes Foot.”Shut up, you hag. … Continue Reading [I Am] Unreliable
By John Zedolik Those blackberries at the bottomof the neighborhood’s hill above the busway where I relished mysecret juicy treat beyond the diesel exhaust must have migratedto the stars like … Continue Reading Heaven Knows
By Mark Bennion Not even a score of years ago,you pulled on my pant legs, beggingme to sing one more off-kilterRodgers and Hart tune before turning offthe lights. “My … Continue Reading Audition
By Martins Deep The night you died, Echo never stopped howling poor dog, barking and barkingrestless as your fingers over the pages of a Bible you never read until you started … Continue Reading in memoriam ii
By Daniela Lilly Mouth wide open, unmoving, unclosed,A hollow cave for brittle promisesLeft for dead.Fragile, as the last tearThat brought peace, unwanted. (And) With her last breath,A cup of tea … Continue Reading A Cup of Tea Went Cold
By Sarah Dickenson Snyder I have always seen timeas a circle, a calendar pulling the last month back to the first.The circles shrink and tighten, how I see babies being … Continue Reading Time & Space
By David Troupes Blue plastic washed among weed,among rope and foamwith the other torn things, arrived through bowels of making and metal,the gizzards and vents of the world-machine. Petrochemicals, trees perhaps— … Continue Reading An Island Off Chatham
By Sarah Dickenson Snyder My first kiss was under a leaf pilemy face flecked with fall—latermy father burned the moundin front of our house on the edgeof Elm Street. All … Continue Reading Kindling