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Hello, Helen.Helen Harlot, Helen Home-Wrecker, Helen Whore. Most beautiful woman in the world, hatched from a swan’s egg, product of yet another rape perpetrated by your divine slut of a father, the “omnipotent” thunderer. His many bedfellows tell a different story.In all the myths, you are glittering, resplendent. And always,Continue Reading

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He was a son gone somewhat wrongin his talking to ghosts and speakingof dreams.Since he is alone in his monologue,we should join him on stage–wrap our spindly arms around his Princely shouldersand whisper it will be all right.Even if we see death coming,we can teach him to dodge. Lynette G.Continue Reading

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I.On a hill in the northwest corner of the ancient Athenian Agora, the Temple of Hephaestus is pocked with bullet holes. The little craters of exact proportion stand in stark contrast to the more natural degradations of time on the Dorian columns, those marks of erosion on marble like theContinue Reading

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Before he loved the starsHe loved the paint, the brush, the canvasHe loved the ear he sacrificedHe probably loved a womanWe cannot go back in timeand see what drove himBut if love is a key to everything,Why did he love the night? Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been publishedContinue Reading

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“The child fathers the man?” ’Tis true!But note: the child is never through— whence springs so much of tragedyand comedy like you and me. James B. Nicola is a returning contributor. The latest three of his eight full-length poetry collections are Fires of Heaven: Poems of Faith and Sense, TurnsContinue Reading