Monday Trina, Apartment 311 Wake up into a whole new week. The news turns on. Something about tensions overseas. I shower to try to...

My dreamiest day of the week is Tuesday. I’ve tracked nearly every dream I’ve had since I was twelve years old and for the past six or so...

The geographic center of an onion oxygen boils anti-memoir questioning hollow snow covered a loom in darkening compact , pounce:::::...

She’s in the passenger seat of my car. I haven’t seen her in weeks. Barely even heard from her. And now here she is. In the passenger...

What I'm about to reveal is the stuff they tell you to keep to yourself or share with a group or save for a professional. It's of blood and

I am pink in the image of no maker I slumber in the intersection of life and dreams My heart burns in peaceful necessity And the long hunger

Mummy Adanma had just gotten back from another day of work at the farm, she lived in a village called Nsugbe in Onitsha along with her...

to be seen through the eyes of a page  if the eyes are windows to the soul,  then the page is a window to your eyes Written, rapt...

Moon Haiku, Salome's Dream. Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon) poet, anarchist, occultist from Hungary. Earlier books: (szellem)válaszok, A Nap és

She took off of her trousers. (She had no panties on) She kneels on the sofa. A steaming snakes mouth is between her open thighs,