Pick of the day
Posted by samhennig on Fri, 23 Sep 2016
Somehow nothing stops.
Nobody else feels the anger.
Nobody else shouts into their pillows
Or stares blankly at white walls.
People just keep walking,
Talking as though everything
Was the same as yesterday
When nothing was the same.
The car pulled up
And it felt like it was raining,
It was definitely dark,
Your face was sallow.
Story of the week
Poem of the week
Posted by Rosa Cruz on Thu, 22 Sep 2016
I rode through the liquid night,
as a melon-slice moon crested a bank of cloud.
Part of the hush and curve of the universe;
Pleiades above me a diamond cluster ring.
Clothed in starlight, wings powdered,
furry belly glossy and plump.
Picks of the Month
Posted by Stephen Thom on Wed, 24 Aug 2016
'There was a grove, dark with holm-oaks, below the Aventine, at sight of which you would say: ‘There’s a god within'. The centre was grassy, and covered with green moss, and a perennial stream of water trickled from the rock.'
Ovid. Fasti. Book III, March 1, Kalends.