By Robert Racicot
I walk empty, quiet streets, each house aglow in blue, airwaves bursting with isolation. Moon rises early, growing super pink, soon the wild creeping phlox will wake. What we call tomorrow will come, to witness our universal nexus moment. Orion hunts low, southwest, inspired the human gods to align the pyramids, little changes in the light, thousands of years ago.
By Gabrielle Plainte On Sunday, April 7, a poetry reading took place in the Faculty Lounge of the Sullivan Building. People of all ages attended, some students, others pure lovers of poetry, and a few […]
By Erica Gilman The tree was ripped out through my chest, all the veins inside on fire from everything that I felt– everything that I feel. It slithered out through my palms and into the […]
By Margarita E. Pignataro Hey Boricua from the Bronx! It’s me La Chilena! You dint remember that you said you loved me when you saw that piece of – Y se te […]
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