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Footsteps of the dead,silent in darkness and light,guide lost children home. Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been published in Poetry Quarterly, North of Oxford, Twin Decades, Remembered Arts, Reader’s Digest, US1, and others. She was married to Attilio Esposito and lives with eight rescued muses in Southern New Jersey.Continue Reading

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In speculo Sue invenit: VISUM MONSTRUOSUM… corpus deforme foedumque… (facie hibrida / indigesto protoplasmatium auctu / partibus in perversis locis temere positis / dentibus in genis sinuque haerentibus)…atque TUBER IN TERGO FIXUM FACIEI ELISABETHAE ULULATU GELATO. Vomens viridem liquorem inquit: Ego sum… sum… MONSTROELISASUE Incipt se parare et vestem bellamContinue Reading

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Old hags fly through history. On the backs of their brooms, the inevitable black cat. Ninetimes witches change magically into sinuous feline form. In mothy blackness cats’ eyes burntopaz, blood-stained ruby. Familiars, whisper secret chants. Black rites are hidden indarkness. Freyja, goddess of death, drives her chariot over wintry skies.Continue Reading

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There is nothing quite like the feel of fresh bloodDripping down the jowls of a greasy faceBacklit shadows dancing from peat moss burningNight; dark night looms so silently loudWhen the rushing rivers of your bloodRoar; drowning out the unspoken pitchLife has a way of becoming fever brightRight when that flameContinue Reading

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I dream of the Sequoiassingingwhen the breezedances amongst maestrolimbs— carving invisible piano noteson their bark.The song is oldI cannot understand the ancient lyric. My wild pen shards words on this pagelike fragmentscrushed by the thought of giantswho do not speak my languageand I cannot express theirs. Lynette G. Esposito, MAContinue Reading

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The trees behind my house are old…very old……when the new neighbor moved in,he had many sawed down–claimed they were a dangerto his home.The neighbor stood and listened—I did as well–each thump on the groundbeat the earth like a drumwith no rhythm. Do trees hold a grudge?Underneath where their roots areContinue Reading

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Susan P. Blevins, an ex-pat Brit, lived in Italy for twenty-six years, traveled the world extensively, and has now settled in Houston, Texas, where she is enjoying writing stories and poems based on her travels and adventures. She had a weekly column on food in a European newspaper while livingContinue Reading

On:

Susan P. Blevins, an ex-pat Brit, lived in Italy for twenty-six years, traveled the world extensively, and has now settled in Houston, Texas, where she is enjoying writing stories and poems based on her travels and adventures. She had a weekly column on food in a European newspaper while livingContinue Reading

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[Written in shifting text that bleeds between languages]ENTRY 1: THE TRANSFORMATIONWhen the books first gained consciousness, we thought it was a miracle. Then the card catalog started prophesying. Then the Dewey Decimal System achieved sentience. Now the library breathes.The walls pulse with plot lines. Stories seep through ceiling tiles. GenreContinue Reading