Miriam pressed a sweaty Diet Coke can to her cheek and shifted in the lawn chair. Her jaws popped and clicked as they clenched, her sore face muscles the victims of TMJ. The yellow glow of fireflies dotted the backyard, and she wished she was young enough to catch them in her hands, smoosh their […]
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marathonlitreview has contributed 114 entries to our website, so far.
Depression the sun becomes the luna & the moon becomes the sol & I turn the shower on & there you are a white noise so loud so white my skin looks browner than ever I use shampoo twice & my feet drown in bubbles: it’s only mid-february & already I feel christmas will never […]
You were caught day-drinking in the shadows of an angel, with your lips chapped to the pin-point crack of a china cabinet, the black death plaquing your under eyes like a disease, knees shaking like the catholic church — it’s the middle ages sneaking up on you. It is the fall of the romans. And […]
Avedis stood at the rail staring into the water on the crossing from Southern France into Manhattan; black waves with red foam following the ship across the Atlantic, the memory of the dead from the Great War filling his throat like the bodies of fish too small to travel alone riding inside dolphins and whales. […]
On late nights, hard nights I think of the empty room where you sit—where you choke down rusted nails and chalk-dust bread. Water drips between cement cracks into cracked thirsty lips. I read the lines you scratch onto stone walls about the ways you consume. I think of the bars on your window. Do they […]
Driving home I see this little girl tromping in a blue dress, Stomping on mother’s hard-worked poppies with a wooden Spoon in hand, but I have to believe she wasn’t really there, On a road surrounded by dozens of fences and homes, but Elsewhere, like in a painting of a house on a cliff by […]
The ground is wet from passed-on rain; sporadically little drops sting my upturned face, sudden remembrances of a rainy day now at dusk. Chill spreads up my legs and into the small of my back but I am focused on the Lodge Pole Pines that stretch black into a yellow-pus sky. I am struck by […]
Kage Brubaker is currently a third year at The Ohio State University studying English and Pre-Medicine. He is currently living in Columbus, reads for OSU’s literary magazine, ‘The Journal’ and is an active member of the University Arts Scholars where he helps plan and execute a variety of events centralized around the Arts. After […]
I want violet ghosts with subatomic magnetism like the inside of one perfect voicemail. I want to predict a patchwork of next week mark it off as a listing of future failures, my handwriting dripping from it in equal parts dysfunction and desiccation. I want to want less. I want to feel like I’m thinking […]
A concentric witness to the same gravity that kept seasons fed, she saw red in the autumn foliage, slick fall with seeds like a lei of Darjeeling. Time lost her of cloud and sky on water, flashed wet a half-translucent sun on a still river bed. She was this, delirium and memory, slender bone buttressed by […]