An Hour in the Life of a Five-Year-Old Pool Player

By Francine Rodriguez The parking lot in front of King Drew Place of Family on Central Avenue, was nearly full that morning in 1994.  I didn’t recognize any of the cars filling the lot, stacked one behind the other. Gangster cars, black Suburbans, Escalades, and lowriders, like the ones in my neighborhood, like the 61 …

The Flames and Other Poems

By Arundhati Rakshit   The Flames And the anguished flames rise once more In revolt, In chorus, In rebellious crackles.   For who dares so much as to Set on a journey, A journey betrothed to Forgetful wayfarers, A journey never-ending, And yet that seeks to  Transcend into the Realms of a surreal cadenza?   …

Poetry by David Dephy

When I Am Going Out in the Summertime   When I am going out of the New York’s subway and especially in the summertime, through the Avenue H by the Q train in Brooklyn, I hear the sounds of ocean. Yet, I hear the sounds of ocean—the sounds of thoughts, the sounds of wishes and …

Cities California

By Thomas Page I am student teaching a senior level class in Washington, DC. They have to write some poems on these prompts. I decided to try all 30 of them. However, I will not say what the prompt was but what it number was. Prompt #23 A tour of California might look like this: …

The Experiment

By John Page I am awake. I’m in so much pain. Where am I? This isn’t my home. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out! It is dark. I’m suffocating in here. Why do I hurt so much? There is an odd smell. Wait, there is light. Loud sounds hurt. Glass breaks. I …

Imagine

By Ryan Quinn Flanagan my surprise when the pigeons at my feet squabble over a single spent shoelace with no nutritional value and the guy who shoulders me and walks right through the metal detector of my back throws up his arms absently and keeps going as if to say he is sorry when he …

Tommy Haiku #167-171

By Thomas Page A skeleton of An overpass flanked by grass Starting to grow there “It’s a yellow day” My dad says as the sun tries To simulate heat The train car salted, Beaten by boots and oxfords: Mineral collage Venomous tongues spake Falsehoods that were hard to break. How could one forsake? Lonely beer …