by D.M. Aderibigbe
Memories compressed into a moving truck.
by Pablo Medina
They say my grandfather Pedro Romero was the best policeman in Havana.
Give me back to my body.
by Scott Cheshire
Let us not forget that evil itself is an act of transcendence.
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July 2nd, 2015
My mother rushed all of her hopes into the store and locked the evening with a huge padlock.
June 30th, 2015
Take a read into the most bad-ass policeman in Havana, as he shoots crocodiles and exudes machismo.
June 25th, 2015
You leave behind music as parameter, pamphlet of poses, autobiographies never cared for.
June 23rd, 2015
All of us Afraid on Earth: that coming long night of death will fall like a curtain sure as the morning sun is born.
June 18th, 2015
If temperature were a way to know the world, then waning heat, half-heat, these would be names for the body in progress.
June 16th, 2015
This animal is bred for its warm, soft qiviut wool.
June 11th, 2015
Mr. Ambrosio in N252 says if you hold your breath long enough, you’ll pass away.
June 9th, 2015
In the public garden, they are the first flowers to open. They bloom like an aria.
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