• Fiction

    What Makes a Monster

    By Laura Ditto I never dreamed of this fate in my youth, though I feel I could have expected it. I was never like the other children. Born unto royalty, but never treated as if that meant something. “That thing,” my family called me, and I grew used to it—along with disdainful looks, lonely days, and familial neglect. I can remember the aging hours that would pass in lonely silence as I puttered about my rooms, separated from most of the hustle and bustle of the castle. It was nice, yes, the tapestries on the walls, comfortable bed, and divine meals. But that did not help what was done. Late…

  • Poetry

    Star Mother

    By Laura Ditto Where were you last night? I was striding across the clouds, plucking stars from sleepy dark beds. I combed back their wild hair and hugged them tight before setting them into their blankets, watching them glow a little brighter. You see, this is my job. You see, without me, night would never be the same. Where were you last night? I sat alone at the edge of the universe, looking over all that rests in the dark hours. You were not among them, were you? You see, I watch over those who need to rest. You see, you should have been asleep. Where were you last night?…

  • Fiction

    Your Tax Dollars at Work

    By Brennon Land I’ve always been a good worker. It’s a strange trait—like I’ve got to prove that I deserve every bite I get to eat. Should probably talk to a therapist or something about whatever childhood trauma led to that mentality, but I stay too busy to ever schedule an appointment. Besides, there’s nothing more American than working until you drop, and I haven’t dropped yet. Even those times I feel like I’ve come close, there’s this deep reserve of pride and spite that always seems to keep me on my feet. I don’t really even know who I am if I’m not working. That’s why I had to…

  • Poetry

    Everything I Love,

    By Zoe May Everything I love,  someone loved before me.  The music I love, someone played for me. The food I love, someone fed me.  The books I love, someone read to me. The places I love, someone took me. The clothes I love, someone made for me.  The gifts I love, someone gave me.  The gardens I love, someone grew for me.  The movies I love, someone showed me.  The jewelry I love, someone crafted for me. The people I love, someone introduced me. Everything I love, someone loves with me. 

  • Opinion

    Ethics Reflection

    By Julianna Lopatin Ethics describes the system of moral principles that govern our internal thoughts and external actions. Sometimes the term “ethics” is used interchangeably with the terms “moral principles” or “moral philosophy.” A few questions I have held within myself since I first began to consider this subject are What ethics means to me and why does it matter? Which is of greater worth: knowledge or happiness? If knowledge, what kind of knowledge? How is it attained? And if happiness, would that be of my own? My family’s? Or the happiness of all? Below I will consider several ethical issues in the hope that engaging with them will gradually…

  • Poetry

    Covered Crowns

    By Anonymous 1786 in Louisiana Were the Tignon* Laws They were used like a bandana To cover black women’s hair because Creole women were required to cover all their hair They used to experiment and adorn it They made the white men stare White women didn’t like it one bit It came off as competitive So they had to use Tignon To black women, who looked, was not relative But their creativity went above and beyond They began to adorn the fabric With feathers and jewels Rule makers though their change would be drastic But black women found a way around the rules They tried to police the appearance of…

  • Poetry

    The Conversation

    By Anonymous  “This just in,” the news reports  “Renny Miles shot 25 times.”  While watching this, I want to abort  “Fifteen years ago, he was a man of many crimes.”  They display his mugshot when he was 16  I know him, our church deacon  Super kind man, lovable, never mean  He helped everywhere he could.  A true light beacon  Further reports indicate  He was out for an 8pm stroll  He just needed some air before he met his fate  From his mate this is what was told  The police felt he fit the description  He’s black, tall, fit  He posed no infliction  It always happens and the police will acquit …

  • Poetry

    A Collection of Poems

    By Brennon Land Not an Immigrant (2020) Stripped Of the land The language The memory of my people. Four hundred years of genocide And still my darkness survives. Though your words roll off my tongue Your clothes don’t fit my form. To you I am a ‘well-spoken. ‘Literate yet uncouth Unforgivably proud Irredeemably Savage. Love Offerings (2020) Late season sweet peas Plump and cold In a wooden bowl Smelling of green And frosty air Regret (2020) Regret is waiting For an opportunity That will never come Regret is a life That was never truly lived For no good reason Regret is the name Never called to your lover To stop…

  • Poetry

    Arboretum

    By Brennon Land (2020) Roots stay shallow In earth poisoned By blood Mingled with the iron And the lead And the hate That put it there Roots stay shallow In earth salted By sweat and tears Savagely distilled From ‘savage’ bodies Stolen and displaced To lands stolen In the name of God The Civilized Whose mercy blesses Pilgrims Evangelists Intrepid Settlers Slaying old gods And their children alike Roots stay shallow In earth glutted On strange fruits Stolen and scorned By the same hands That left bruises Easily hidden Beneath dark skin So that eyes Blind to color See no injury And mouths that feed From broken flesh Teeth freshly…

  • Poetry

    DA

    By Shanice Lawton She dreams of you every night, Your smile still lights up her heart, She still speaks of you as if you will walk into the room, Your nephew is the spitting image of you he even has your humor, The picture that hangs in my office is my favorite one of you, When she smiles I see the tears she holds back, She tries to be strong but I know at night she still cries, Your birthday is in two weeks and every year she goes silent on that day, We tell her how much we love her every chance we get, You were worried she would…