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 […]
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 […]
lies under the blue sky and its white cloud in the Pearl River estuary, dredged sand is piled alongside droning ships are busy, engaged inside the Venetian Macao a mirror world with man-made sky and cloud high above this patch of never rains, nor ever becomes cloudy hailing from Italy singing Gondoliers glide down the […]
Red Bird A red bird perched and sang a song of leaves and rain, summer storms of May: The driving rain, phantom bullets, a windmill turning in the night: Bird perched on the mill, signal in the night, solitary red: Within a May- storm of leaves and rain, the red bird caught and held my […]
I hear the click-clack worry of the Tic-Tacs shackled in their plastic container… an orange flurry of candy hurries into her hand. We’re parked, engine idle. It’s 1996 and we’re stationed at an ATM. My mother, waiting for an automated response, reaches back into the vehicle to the center console for a pack of safety-orange […]
the song, a garbled bag of birds the trees outside my window are golden today, i will drive the electrolux all over this place; taking up the extradited crumbs of children left in their hunger and haste in this emptiness i imagine what could be present what could be devised what could be devastated out […]
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