The Gut

A Poem By Shameelah Khan Guilt has made my stomach lining absorb very little I watch as my intestines crawl into themselves forming vines along my gut wrenching willows and silent pushes and squirms of the dead and the hollow nuances of memory that digress -how slowly does loss take to digest Share this…FacebookTwitterPinterestTumblrLinkedinRedditemailPrint

Mother

A Short Story By Sarah Leck 「孩子,你看你堂哥的儿子这么可爱!」 “Child, look how cute your cousin’s son is!” My mother held a phone to my face, hers beaming with familial pride. On the screen was a picture of a boy about a year old with cherubic, pink cheeks, smiling guilelessly. 「对啊,可爱。」 “Yeah, he’s cute.” I meant it, but […]

Sunday’s guilt

A Poem By Pippa Browning Happiness threatens me shadows clog me I would just hate to leave this brothel of youth this early but time is hunting Injected labels summon restless pride among all this goddamn mooching Holy inertia narrates strewn survival and kingdom come nags Senile treasures hide in mirror eyes like corkscrew minds whiplashing […]