Only in that sunless realm between asleep and awakeWill I find you, the shell of my former self, crumpled andLifeless, huddled in the darkest corner, two tattered wingsSprouting from shriveled flesh, cracked and splinteredLike the decaying skin of a porcelain doll left forgotten. I watch as you gracefully unfurl thoseContinue Reading

Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award winning Butterflies in Flight, Thames & Hudson, 2002 and Heat, Charta, Milano, 2008. His work has appeared in numerous journals including The New England Review, Phoebe, Folio and the New York Quarterly. His work is represented by theContinue Reading

Who are these determined apes, who endurethe cries of cracked bones and vertigo,which precede the treetops?Treetops where these apes reach and graspand check their fingertips to see if maybethey’d grazed the halo.They don’t yet realize, yet still they reach—unapologetically— up toward the twinkle which precedes the dawn “Daniel J. Nickolas”Continue Reading

Imagine a vehicle of dream and paradox,where light is a force,void is an entirety.Imagine the improbabilityof that. How worldscould extend that far. You will travel a long time. Track the closest bodyto your window, watch itenlarge to swallow its ownaura in a wild throat as itslips past. You’re small,an afterthought.Continue Reading

From Grimm’s Little Red Cap, Perrault’s Little Red Riding Hood, & Christ’s Parable of The Good Samaritan There was once a sweet young girl who lived deep in the woods with her mother. Everyone who saw this girl instantly adored her. One day, her mother was feeling ill, so sheContinue Reading

She plays in the shallows, always just beneath the surface. Find her near the mud banks of a shrunken lake. She is swimming among the weeds, happy to be free. Nothing can move her. Not like it used to. She has felt her share of sadness and would rather keepContinue Reading

Outside,The sun has set,The atmosphere is freezingTo the surface for the night,While mining rovers trundleHome through frostedRegolith. Inside,The air ducts hum,Recycled water flows throughHydroponic gardens under lights.A systems check confirms thatAll is well insideThe airlock. Elsewhere,On Planet Earth,It’s said they walk on grass,Enjoying sunshine as their right. She sighs, andContinue Reading

the symphony of bugs buzzing around our brightbodies. the spray acrid as gasoline over our arms,legs, torsos, faces scrunched like zipper spokes. the wind hesitating before reaching to touchthe leaves, our hair sticky with sweat beinglifted briefly before settling again. a reflection telescope takes time to temperature adjust.nothing to doContinue Reading