Not the art of your fathers, But art that bleeds into new waters. Paint that seeps purposefully, Onto clothing and shoes. Colors melt together on skin Not on walls like …
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Creative
The Father’s Arms
“Welcome home, Alma.” I hear a warm voice say, peculiarly coming from all around me. Though my eyelids are closed, I can feel a soft radiance enveloping me like a …
The Lonely Guitar
My neck is sore, it yearns for touch To be held once again is what I desire My hollow body longs for such Passion in the hands of the one …
The Vulture
The harsh rays of the desert sun scorch the feathers on my wings. But I fly even closer to the source of this brutal heat, so as not to entangle …
I Can’t Sleep
“Try not to think,” the YouTube video says. That, in itself, requires thinking. Seriously, who comes up with these? Every day, I dread the moment I finish my homework and …
What Makes You Crazed
“Welcome, Bradford, or should I say, inmate #1284.” Bradford was dragged into the examination room; he spat at the doctor. “What could you possibly want, Doctor Han, or should I …
Encounter
“Are you seriously doing this?” “You know I don’t have any other choice.” “With a gun?” “Shut up.” “Jean, c’mon.” “Shut up. You know what I need.” “You could’ve just …
What Still Remains
by Ethan Pacholl — we used to play in fields the sweet summer sky sprawling across the canvas nothing but space and ourselves infinitely our bodies moving and the sweat …
Static
My right hand reached for the black knob that controlled the radio stations. Static. The shadow of the overpass that I was driving under reminded me of the poor signals …
A Fruitless Attempt At Surviving Impending Mortality
Sunlight flooded the austere room, rainbows dancing on the walls. If this Neanderthal moved me over 2 inches, I’d be on my way to a decent meal. I was desperate. …