INNOCENCE – By Shayna Boisvert
INNOCENCEBy Shayna Boisvert ParthenonEven within my youth, I sensed something...I recall when it came to meTucked softly into bedHow irresistibly comforting it felt To be tucked within the sheetsI nnocentSwiftly this would end...I no longertake for...
LIKE WIND – By Ed Hack
LIKE WINDBy Ed Hack
Weather In America
The lightning didn't stop. An hour or moreit lit the reddish sky at 3amas rain slashed down in waves, terrific pourthat drenched the screens, as if it couldn't end,and...
CONTUSIONS – By Gary Beck
CONTUSIONSBy Gary Beck
Hidden Treasure
We move through city streetsintent on arrivalat destinations,immune to the beautyaround us;elegant willow,sweet Finch song,the fall of lighton an old building,the paths of pleasurethat reduce the angstof the city dweller,focus narrowingon...
NATURE / STOP / IGNORE – By Karl Miller
NATURE / STOP / IGNOREBy Karl Miller
Nature/violence (Diptych)
Stop (Triptych)
Ignore (Diptych)
About the Author:
Karl Miller’s fiction and poetry have appeared in numerous periodicals, including RE:AL, Portland Review, Subtle Tea, Cold Mountain Review and others; his play,...
SYMPHONY – By Amber McCready
SYMPHONYBy Amber McCready
Symphony
If I ever leave this world aliveI want my soul to be composedof every laugh my parents ever madeevery memory of reliefevery dream induced disbelief.I want to sleep like I am in...
TO MY MOTHER’S FRIEND – By Leilani Ahia
TO MY MOTHER'S FRIENDBy Leilani Ahia
To My Mother's Friend
Let me tell you of the walkyou missed this eveningbecause you did not care for wetand coldand the land's natural state.I ventured intoSomethingthat was not salty...
TIMES – By Anwer Ghani
LITERARY CONTESTSFICTIONNONFICTIONPOETRYHAPPENINGSBOOK REVIEWSINTERVIEWSNEW TITLESART & PHOTOGRAPHYADELAIDE Independent Quarterly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Trimestral, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition TIMESBy Anwer Ghani The SunsetMy hand is so hot like the soul of the sunset. It...
FEED FLOWERS – By Mark Taksa
FEED FLOWERSBy Mark Taksa Feed FlowersWind, if it woke, might scrape a leafagainst the planks. Flowers wilt in the pot.A departed wind pushed the watering can, dry,to its side. Dry wood shows through porch paint.Long...
MIDWAY – By Michael Carr
MIDWAYBy Michael Carr
Midway
A student asks me why Dantewandered off the straight path,and I tell him that midwaythrough his life he might findthe answer.
Now, it would just be esoteric.
I wake at three to the soundof...
DOWNPOUR – By Bruce McRae
DOWNPOURBy Bruce McRae
Downpour
A heavy rain falling over Lithium Island,the roads flooded with tears of the disenfranchised,the quarry a lake of grief and woes,the tavern’s cellar under thirteen inchesof something that once resembled water.
All of...