What comes after Post-Modernism?

  • Stella…by G. Mramor

    Stella…by G. Mramor

    Beautiful that stella’s belly grows Beautiful that without warning a kiss Beautiful that makes one from two; Beautiful the little one carrying our love Beautiful the sound of your impatience Beautiful that she is you and that I am you; Beautiful these words are yours Beautiful this love is mine Beautiful this wish is hers

  • True, I Liked the Romance of You.

    True, I Liked the Romance of You.

    I was afraid I’d have to come to the surface and breathe and be clean and tell the truth, that I liked the romance of you, your soft heart with all its quiet fervor that I could hold and massage in my small hands and touch my fingertips together, the thumb and the middle, feeling…

  • Reasons Why I Could Never Teach a Spanish Class – Poem by J.Gawrych

  • Hiṃsā…by G. Mramor

    Hiṃsā…by G. Mramor

    They stood on the busy corner. The crowd dispersed when the light went red. Some who had crossed the street entered the station next to the boys and others passed by them into the big window stores. The boys did not speak, they stood there looking across the street. They wore blue emblemed blazers and…

  • Cosmic Samba: Styles of Life Unified by M. Pitter

    Cosmic Samba: Styles of Life Unified by M. Pitter

    The people of this world– living in different societies abroad, societies built on continents each continent shaped its own way, near seas and containing rivers filled with trees and bush indigenous only to that very place — seem foreign to each other. Coming into contact with foreign peoples could be an experience that renders any…

  • Bandha, part 3: Sunday…by G. Mramor

    Bandha, part 3: Sunday…by G. Mramor

    He sits where the old man once stood. The stars dim. The moon slouches toward the ocean. The blue massif fades away. The night is full. What ghost have you created to fight? What end have you created to distract? What path have you created to walk? Who is the rock who is the mountain…

  • Bandha, part 2: Saturday…by G. Mramor

    Bandha, part 2: Saturday…by G. Mramor

    He awakens. Snow banks up against him, slightly closing him in. He can see through a sliver that it is morning. He rolls deeper into the cave and gets out of the sleeping bag quickly because of the putrid smell and he crawls to the entrance and punches his way out. The trees are all weighed…

  • Bandha, part 1: Friday…by G. Mramor

    Bandha, part 1: Friday…by G. Mramor

    He looks down at him. His face, pale and sharp, empties and he sees another boy never come home. ‘You sure you want to get off here? Expectin’ a bad storm this weekend.’ He smiles. ‘Yea, this is my stop. Thanks.’ He alights the bus. ‘Fine. Go on ahead.’ He slams the bus doors and…

Do you create?