Poetry & Short Fiction

Poetry

Oral Examination
by Alex Keegan, posted March 1, 2003
words are not always thus; cunning/fungus, fingers, tongue, thrush/words aren't always this/full of licking els...

Little Red Thread
by Bill Zischang, posted August 8, 2001
The little red thread dangles/from everywhere you look./The crepe paper tails,/and bamboo skeletons,/the skins of kites, and wishes/that became tangled/in the many real things/which complicate/the dreams of children...

Behold
by Bill Zischang, posted August 8, 2001
The flight of his kite is a metaphor for Life! And, you don't have to be/too bright/to figure out/that the night becomes/the haunt of fantasy/only because the transparency of dreams/is reflected in the wind as it pushes...

Haiku
by Shannon Hiatt, posted August 8, 2001
He's an eccentric some say;/Gray braid under brown bowler/And everyday, a new kite/That he's made/Flown with signed witness...

Movement
by Carolyn Markham, posted November 30, 1999
bodies/in motion/yours, mine, ours/brought together/in the oldest dance...

Sparrows
by Doug Tanoury, posted November 30, 1999
Sparrows perch on a narrow ledge/Half hidden in the eaves...

Pink Font
by Doug Tanoury, posted November 30, 1999
And I tell her/Write to me in feminine fonts/That flower and bloom and/Twist in flowing script...

Grasmoor
by Andy Walsh, posted November 30, 1999
Grasmoor dips/its elephantine head/into the cool, clear, plane/of Crummock Water...

Waking
by Raven, posted November 30, 1999
Upon waking, a dream...Face to face, object of...Continued desire, held...

Succubus
by Raven, posted November 30, 1999
As morning usurps the night, Pale fingers reach for me. Sleep lingers; consciousness lurks...

Sacred
by Nikole Grantham, posted November 30, 1999
I am purified in his passion/surrounded by the divine will/to surrender my entirety...

For Zach and Kayne
by gooey, posted November 30, 1999
We have been pulled apart and for reasons we won't know...

A Selection from 1997 to 1999
by gooey, posted November 30, 1999
Scattered, shredded, tossed, and torn are pieces of my life...

Fugue
by Mishi, posted November 30, 1999
aching thighs/bruised legs/happy body, happy mind, happy/memories of the cause, of/the time spent - foolish, clumsy, careless,/caring...

Short Fiction

Five Days in May
by Alex Keegan, posted April 1, 2003
Harry still had the red-head's business card. He had made himself wait two days before he rang her, but he couldn't stop seeing those green eyes, the flick of her hair or the way she strutted away from him after their little accident in the Aldwych. "Thank-you!" she had said and smiled. His gut had turned over and she sensed something. "Give me a ring!" she'd said and clicked a card into his hand. He had forced himself not to chase her down the Strand.

Lunch, No Oysters
by Alex Keegan, posted April 15, 2001
My relief was very short-lived. I wasn't the sort of man who had erotic fantasies, well not during the day at least, not while waiting for my lunch, but suddenly she was before me, then sitting opposite me, then touching my hand, then speaking softly, and when I looked again, her eyes were begging me, 'Now, I need you now, make love to me!'