Six shooters of whiskey in bullet shaped glasses tumbling over trembling knees under desks. Finding your face in between toes pointing east rubbing against each other in shoes, sole worn The sun doesn’t…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
Little, Lit and Left by Cassidy J. Hodges
Walk out and look over the lost moon, the caustic light dim in the murk. A river deep in the burned morning countryside, smoke standing at the edge of winter. Rough boys open…
Missing you is like Illinois by Cassidy J. Hodges
My pen stumbles through Illinois, joking with bus stops about coming home. Taking photographs of roadsides (waiting for our skin to appear there). Touching the shifter, tentative as the flat of some field rips holes…
Mid-Autumn, Enjoying the Moon by Hyesim
If the luminous moon were a jade bead, it could be stolen by those with power or position. If the moon’s wheel-light on the water were taken as a pearl, could it reflect on…
Instead of Heaven or Earth, I Answer by Hyesim
There are 10,000 distinctions and 1,000 differences among matter— they all follow occasions of fancy. If one abandons this discriminating mind what forms of matter are unique? Poetry of Hyesim Translated by: Ian…