The world has always identified with heroes and villains. Heroes are glorified with good while villains are identified as being completely evil. When I think of heroes and villains I am reminded of Marvel and DC comics. Such heroes represent the kind of character we strive to attain inside ourselves. The villains in our… Continue reading Editorial June 2020 Issue
The corridors of Channel Ten were a hive of activity. Tapes to be edited, copy to be written and satellite uplinks to be coordinated all added up to one noisy work environment. Dev Menon enjoyed his bird’s eye view of the entire proceedings. Nothing like running against deadlines to pump up the adrenaline, he thought.… Continue reading Upwardly Mobile by Abhijit Chaki
The first time he noticed the young woman, she was in the park in the center of the next town over, floating past the duck pond with a bulging sack under one arm.
“For the grand prize of fifty thousand dollars and a trip to Montego Bay, name the popular children’s program that features a sassy monocle wearing black cat in a red sweater?”
‘The weird sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about: Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up nine’ (William Shakespeare: Macbeth, Act I scene iii) At the hour when the shade lay least on the wooded shore, the girl walked on… Continue reading Waist Deep by Hayden Moore
Flowers, All Sorts in Blossom, Figs, Berries, and Fruits Forgotten Oisín Breen Edinburgh: Hybrid Press, 2020. pp.96. $13 ISBN 9781873412046 https://www.hybriddreich.com/ Tell me – what do you want from Dublin? If it can be summed up in black-and-white photos of Beckett (that’s Paris, I know, I know) or cocky young Joyce in… Continue reading Poetry book review by Paul Thompson
THE CALMING OF A FEAR I was dwarfed by the big chair I sat in, reading a book, as the sun slowly set, taking the words with it.
THE SAINT (translated from the German of Rainer Maria Rilke by William Ruleman) The people thirsted—save one girl alone, Who ventured forth on ground of barren stone Beseeching water for an entire folk.
Monologue at the Thanksgiving Table Think about it this way Nobody wants to return home to a house cradling an inferno like a child With charred images around the dinner table mistaking the smoke for an aroma of something good
The Longest Struggle In life, wrapped in pink bubble-wrap and hardship. Wearing the marks of child-rearing from fairly young age.