Father/ I feel your shadow attached to my feet/ but I am no lost boy/ and you don’t have the strength to be mischievous./ Father, I don’t want to forget/ but my memories are clouded by your crooked walk/ I …

Parley: Literary & Visual Arts – SITREP: Military Literary & Visual Arts – PPSC News: Link to The Paper
Father/ I feel your shadow attached to my feet/ but I am no lost boy/ and you don’t have the strength to be mischievous./ Father, I don’t want to forget/ but my memories are clouded by your crooked walk/ I …
They walk to her shop on starry nights and sometimes through rain or snow. People who like the quiet of an almost empty space with low lighting and long tables and dusty particles that drift through lamplight to settle on …
Who am I? Biologically speaking, a 20 year old female. True, yet that doesn’t feel right. Who am I? Some may say ‘hard worker,’ ‘student,’ ‘associate.’ Is that all I am? Who am I? Maybe it’s how others see me …
It’s eerie. I lay awake at night as the monster rips at my skin. I have to do what everyone else can do despite the monster. Me and the monster are not friends. But, when people poke at the monster …
Two birds of a feather. Smiling ever so bright, fitting for the god of the sun. He played songs to his lover, Beautiful music on his golden lyre. They shared a bond that rivaled Orpheus and Eurydice. Connected at the …
the first week of august was motionless and hot when at last— a long caesura fell and at once it was mid-october and that’s when i begged “Let me do the eternal work of Autumn!” and plucked the greenest leaf …
Fast wings flap skyward The hawk dives for the rabbit Too late, it escapes.
A dream. 30 seconds of an 8 hour journey. I blink. Where am I? There is a concrete jungle covered in ferns and vines. A whisper. Calling my name each time I close my eyes. She calls my name. I …
Limbs Out of the skyline they rise. Bare branches like arms reaching out trying to touch limb to limb. Yearning to no longer be bare like the skin on my chest. The wind causes swaying of branches wrapping around each …
The distribution of foreign anger or vengeance sweeps the grounds of poisoned millennials. As things go, the miniscule amount of two grains of salt can be so boundlessly lethal anymore. Not only the unknown I mourn, while of course they’re …