THE PUSH By Clay Reed

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THE PUSHBy Clay Reed DynamicAfter Denise Duhamel Having a child changes a relationship,at least that’s what our friends with childrenhave told us several times.“It changes the dynamic!” they say,acting as if they are letting us inon...

NOW I SEE, By Mignon Ariel King

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NOW I SEEBy Mignon Ariel King Chifforobe Daddy had one, so when its three tones of art-deco woodcreaked open on tiny black hinges to emit a breath of cedar,I fell in love. I could see the...

THOSE TWO by Odeta Xheka

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Half of New Territory The rain’s let upas the last few drops of milk and tears snake downthe cereal bowl, on the breakfast table,covered in silence and soaked in honey-we go about deaf and blind,...

TIMES – By Anwer Ghani

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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...

A LULLABY FOR HOME by Dibyasree Nandy

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A Lullaby For Home The floating white fire in the night sky dimsAn outline looms, is golden-hewnAcross the crag, beyond the cloudsOur home seen in the horizon. It’s no mere delf, a realm at the hilly...

AFTER THE RAIN by Jack Brown

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AFTER THE RAINby Jack Brown  AFTER THE RAIN The squirrels told herit was safe to talk with me.Birds who protected her beforegave their approval.They look after their own.Wearing ribbons of struggleshe beckoned with woundsand wonder. Seekingthe...

NIGHT HYMN by R. Nikolas Macioci

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NIGHT HYMNby R. Nikolas Macioci   NIGHT HYMNA prostitute saunters back and forthunder a streetlight, takes permissionfrom the night to be there.  She poses,walks a few steps, poses again.  Sheis a beginner, barely able to smoothout...

WORD by Patrick T. Reardon

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WORDby Patrick T. Reardon Make In summer, the father grilled hot dogswith his white t-shirt off, skin burning. In fall, he tolled novenas. After snow melt,the whitened bones of a gnawed bird,chaos of feathers. Can you taste the beckoning? In...

THANKSGIVING – By Obi Nwakanma

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THANKSGIVINGBy Obi Nwakanma Thanksgiving It is the seventh month, and theUvene fruits are ripe again  -The wild berries, plump with juice;The breadfruit, and the gourds are full, heavyLike the pregnant women of this landAbout to give,...