Archive for the Fiction and Poetry Category
Who loves the warthog? Who threw up a fence
To guard that frame, that face?
I found him near “Exotic Birds,”
Electrifying, base —
Prodigal son, whose well-stocked pen
&n
06.13.2010| Fiction and Poetry, Volume 6, Issue 1 | Patrick Spence
After an aimless time
searching for an ambiguous truth,
I behold the idea incarnate.
It takes the shape my mind always dreamed--
a fantasy realized and released--
one pale lily among rough reeds.
Without reaching out to its beauty, I
fall back into tangibility, leave
all untouched in silence
03.27.2010| Fiction and Poetry, Volume 5, Issue 2 | Maria Xia
She’s a beautiful girl. Red sweater, white shoes, cherub cheeks. Unsmiling eyes. The first time I saw her, I wondered if what George and Nina had said about her was true. That she’d been found on a nameless sidewalk in a blind city, swaddled in red and scraping her tender hands on the rough fibe
11.20.2009| Fiction and Poetry, Volume 5, Issue 1 | Ann Chao
I AM the voice of the unseen
You shall never know me,
Listen as my words evaporate
What I say refers to nothing.
All the days of life vanish
Each one polishing your soul,
When the last morning arrives
Then you see through time.
There I stand always waiting
As your prayers glimpse me,
O
11.20.2009| Fiction and Poetry, Volume 5, Issue 1 | Kevin McGrath
from the burial ground
at old Copp’s Hill
two clay-daubed ministers rise
floating from their earthen mound
flitting through the red-bricked ville
fleeting in the moonlit skies
their shrouds of Cotton
in breadth Increase
with the billowing gust
their faces forgotten
their breaths long cea
11.20.2009| Fiction and Poetry, Volume 5, Issue 1 | Michael Yashinsky
You descended into hell.
You plunged, razed it with your eyes –
This song is in praise of you.
You descended into hell
 
11.20.2009| Fiction and Poetry, Volume 5, Issue 1 | Judith Huang
Father Wallace was generally able to keep an open mind when it came to the new members of his parish, so he was surprised by the strength of the dislike he felt when he first met Jordan Sullivan. The feeling wasn't immediate. When Father Wallace first noticed the handsome new face in the congregatio
12.1.2008| Fiction and Poetry, Volume 4, Issue 2 | Eric Lang