in parentheses

Category: creative writing

  • Three Poems Written in Brooklyn by Carmen Guzman

    Three Poems Written in Brooklyn by Carmen Guzman

    This energy from my ink. If I write, and write, and write, who reads?

  • Rain on the Brain and Other Poems by John Grey

    Rain on the Brain and Other Poems by John Grey

    CHRIS You drank away a third of your life, slept a third, and wrote in what remained. No, for a third of that last third, you tried to make a go at something else. And then, the second third was all about women. Bui the third third…that’s when you really came into your own. But…

  • A Whole Economy of Objects and Other Poems by Nolan Allan

    A Whole Economy of Objects and Other Poems by Nolan Allan

    A Whole Economy Of Objects We are climbing a ladder toward gear-shaped caverns, a flash-frozen wind’s trembling above a barren land-fill. Can you imagine

  • Monster on the Mound – Story by Tim Tobin

    Monster on the Mound – Story by Tim Tobin

    Monster on the Mound Monster on the Mound marks Mr. Tobin’s third appearance in In Parentheses. His work also appears in Grey Wolfe Press, River Poets Journal, Static Movement, Cruentus Libri Press, The Speculative Edge, Rainstorm Press, Twisted Dreams, The Rusty Nail, Whortleberry Press and various websites and ezines. Follow him on Twitter @TimTobin43. The…

  • Was there ever a time…by G. Mramor

    Was there ever a time said my friend, said my friend there was a time we feted the even rage, squirreled through trash, papered our bed, joined our sleeping arms, crashed our crying head. My friend said there is a time, a time to remember all our dead, time to speak again all those names…

  • One drink and seven or ten…by G. Mramor

    One drink and seven or ten…by G. Mramor

    Because he does not want to believe that one drink and seven makes no love. Because in the far back of the taxi he can see her head on his shoulder and her hand on his knee and his on top of hers like they’ve never been away. Because the boy next to him sees…

  • Not for this selfish giant…by G. Mramor

    A chain of clouds like peaks so unreal, beneath a yellow moon who breathes a pale green and love is passing. Who sits on the river and breaks with the river and moves in pieces, up the town like streaks of fire on the lie and mountain or cloud all around and love is passing.…

  • I who make with water…by G. Mramor

    With my hands I cut the valley and raise up the earth beyond the clouds. A whisper and the flues meet icy black at the falls. A shout and the land spreads. A cry and the ocean snaps wave rove upon wave. My heavy cough makes sharp the cliffs and the smoke from my lips…

  • The Contents of a Box Filled with Artifacts of My Father’s Life – by Lulu Carrigan

    The Contents of a Box Filled with Artifacts of My Father’s Life – by Lulu Carrigan

    Lulu Carrigan has a bachelor of arts in creative writing and three typewriters (two are broken). She has only been published, with a loose definition of the word, on her blog, luluthezulu.tumblr.com, or on twitter, @lulucarrigan. Talk to her about poetry, art, mopeds, music, people, places and things! More work by Lulu featured on IP. First of…

  • Backyard Brouhaha – by Lulu Carrigan

    Backyard Brouhaha – by Lulu Carrigan

    Lulu Carrigan has a bachelor of arts in creative writing and three typewriters (two are broken). She has only been published, with a loose definition of the word, on her blog, luluthezulu.tumblr.com, or on twitter, @lulucarrigan. Talk to her about poetry, art, mopeds, music, people, places and things! More work by Lulu featured on IP. Backyard…