• Academic

    That’s What They Want You to Think

    By Marty Grumblis 0: Contact Established  You, yes you, stop whatever you’re doing right now. I need to make sure you’re ready to listen to what I’m about to say. You’ve been living in a dream world, a world of lies and deception and mind control to keep the masses complacent. No, don’t act surprised when you read this, act as normal as possible. You wouldn’t want them to notice, would you? Good, yes, act totally natural, you’re just reading a normal article from the mainstream media, you’re just getting your daily dose of misinformation. Except, this time, you’re getting the truth. The truth that they’ve been hiding from you.  …

  • Poetry

    I Am the Villain, and I Will Never Win

    By Jordan Hales I am the villain, and I will never win. My words are laced with venom. My ambition stings. I am never wrong, nor am I right. Vanity is worn on my iron sleeve. Viridian is my color. Black is my heart. Silver are the swords that stay at my side. I am the villain, and when you fall, I triumph. I taunt. I tear. I am only a reflection. I burn, you blunder. Betrayal is a given—by you, by me. I will love you. I will leave you, and you will watch me walk away. The ground burns in my footprints. Power blazes within me, but not…

  • Poetry

    Transformation of Self

    By Kenneth A Hughes Show me, show me what you see  A scared little boy in a circle of uncertainty  Whispers in the dark trees unknown  He comes in to surrender, Alone  Lies and sin fall from his lips  The boulder he carries falls and splits  Suffering and hell he sees  Promises of Growth gossips the trees  His head is full of confusion and doubt  He’s cold when the stars and fire Go out  Blazing high in the sky Sun ray falls  Mercy from the sand he cries he calls  Like all things in life this too shall end  With the rain his soul begins to mend  Gratitude washes over…

  • Poetry

    Remember your meds. Remember you’re on meds.

    By Margo Gillis Good morning my dear, how do you feel  Be cautious with your thoughts, they’re rarely real  Please remember to take your meds before you start to wane  I promise they’ll do their best to keep you sane  But when you’ve made it through, be patient with your brain  Please remember you’re on meds, your thoughts may refrain  From making any sense, due to the chemical imbalance  Oh, and don’t forget, when you chide yourself for being numb  Remind yourself of the time you nearly bit off your thumb  Trying to pull your mind away from the war raging inside  By forcing your body to set its survival…

  • Coffee Sleeve Stories

    Coming to Alaska

    By Steve Rubinstein The day we met it did not rain until we fell  into a rocking slumber side by side  her tent held to the metal deck with duct tape  mine blown off in Ketchikan  her lips so close I thought I heard her calling out  a name she swore she did not know.  From that day on I saw her shaped from water  eyes aglow with each dark cloud  spirit lifted, lit, reflected in each puddle   forming at her feet from falling rain  or so I would remember I believed   when I believed in truths  I believed in rain. 

  • Coffee Sleeve Stories

    And stay.

    By Jordan Hales When we’re apart, I keep you in my heart.  Haunting feelings of maroon, I hope to see you soon.  Our moments are loquacious, and I am no longer anxious.  I will welcome the December chill, and my happiness you will fulfill.  I long for you when you’re away, when you return, please tell me you’ll stay.  And stay. 

  • Coffee Sleeve Stories

    Road Less Traveled

    Dave Onofrychuk Twenty-some years ago, late at night on a secondary highway in the prairie, on my way to lawn-mowing gig at a Scout camp two hours north of home, a man flagged me down beside his car on the shoulder.  Could he get a ride? Pitch dark, no moon. His face, half shadow in the glow of my headlights. Me, nineteen years old.  “Sure,” I said. I dropped him off in town, a few miles up the road. Sometimes I look back on that and wonder how much there is to be afraid of. Sometimes I shake my head at myself and shudder. 

  • Coffee Sleeve Stories

    Seven-Year Slumber

    By Marty Grumblis Cicadas aren’t something you get to experience in Alaska. I spent many years being aware of their existence, but only recently did I travel to a state with large broods. The insects spend seven years underground, a private and dark existence. Then, they uproot their entire way of being. Growing tired of their miserable shells, they crawl from the dirt, they molt, and they scream. A cicada doesn’t live long after it emerges from the ground, only a few weeks to put on the show of a lifetime. Like a true artist, they refuse to let their misery go unheard. 

  • Coffee Sleeve Stories


    Marty Grumblis It takes around 4,000 newtons of force to break the human femur, or roughly 6,000 pounds of compressive pressure. The comeback is brutal, full recovery taking upwards of a year in some cases. A year wasted in the hospital for us in the 21st century, but sometimes I think about our late ancestors, skeletons with healed femurs. Their families and communities cared for them, hunted for them, made sure they were safe without any of our modern luxuries. The world has always been cruel and punishing, but humans have found a way to love each other enough to walk again.