Prosetry

When the sky is no longer a safe place…by G. Mramor

When the sky is no longer a safe place the chest of light shall close upon…
Was there ever a time…by G. Mramor

Was there ever a time said my friend, said my friend there was a time we…
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…
Not for this selfish giant…by G. Mramor

A chain of clouds like peaks so unreal, beneath a yellow moon who breathes a pale…
I who make with water…by G. Mramor

With my hands I cut the valley and raise up the earth beyond the clouds. A…
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…
To erase all sound…by G. Mramor

The girls are crying on the seaboard. They swing from ropes and bash into boards, their…
And the river makes no sound for you…by G. Mramor

Because the river makes no sound for you, it can only wake, like the past walking…
ORDER NOW: In Parentheses Magazine (OCT 2013) & FREE MUSIC

It is with great pleasure that we bring to you the next issue of In Parentheses. This…
The Trade… by Brittney Bullock

We traded seasons, passing them back and forth like notes in class, like old times. I…