By ​Sharmila Munver

​ 
All Ike Moore wanted was to become a famous writer. Secretly, he wanted to change the past where he would be revered as a writer for eons to come. But mostly, he just wanted to write a damn story. 
​

By Joseph Gordon Wilson

Hook mouth swimmer
knows (like its tail
to turn the
​

By Amy Baskin

The mail carrier is young and attractive. 
I did not know this until today, sitting on 
my porch. He walked slowly up our stairs, 
considering the lilies. Three crows followed 
him, hopping up the vaulted lawn.
​

By ​Liam Timothy Wholihan

the pew barely seats one: i shut up, strip. rowing the south river & back only counts shirtless. clothed a stray drop of (something wet, akin to) divinity might fluke into the kayak, but i can ​only drink the sunshine bareback. 
​

By Amy Baskin

By Ghia Vitale

​Her freckled brilliance
waltzes across the night’s blackness like
an army of rainbow-colored orbs invading
the abyss in the sky,
studding it with diamonds that dazzle like
tiny candles, lit to summon forth
the celestial fire
that makes her glitter magic grow stronger.

By ​Maya White-Lurie

In earlier years, I’d have told you
Vulnerability shows a fool’s weakness.
Any gap is a space for a blade.
​

By James Diaz

I woke to pre-dawn dark
slipped through the break
in the river, my face wore 
the same expression 
as the day I was born
a wail and a shock
​

By ​Laszlo Aranyi

              Unnoticed he watches.
       Treacherous become the playground's small rumblings…
       A ripped throat
its mandated result.

By Julianne Fern Basile

My iPhone types out the names of Sun Gods
 When I am not touching it.
 
When Quetzalcoatl appeared on the screen,
I knew it was not me, or my telekinetic abilities,
​