Joined by Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia



Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia

One  day it will be discovered. What will be found will be up for review. Nothing is gone for good. Nothing good is gone. Nothing gone is good. Good is gone. Gone is good. Good is nothing.  Nothing is good.

It took all of every minute up until now to get here, to get to this. Life’s been spent (waiting). Even when it wasn’t thought of as such.

* * *

Woke up, looked both ways before crossing the street. What could that mean? Don’t say there’s anything which can be called a reason or purpose as such. Jesus Christ. Some people.

* * *

Reality has no walls which can’t be broken. Voices explore places eyes don’t consider. The world we inhabit is a geode. Something hides on the inside. But what nobody knows up until now is that there are many kinds of geodes. Those inwardly bejeweled and those which are secretly rotting behind stone faces.

* * *

There was no place to put trust in you but that’s where it went when all the other hiding spots were already in use. Besides we all need a safe spot we want to rely on. Room has a way of being made when one is willing to take it.

Hearts have space for more chambers. Throats can squeeze in another stanza. Lungs have vacancies. Ribs were built to expand.

But it’s much too much to ask for eyes when they’re already being consumed facing consequences. Yet, for the rest, there’s a whole body formed just for hiding this corpse.

And when you left this was carried away too. In death we are, we were, we will be joined.

Bio: Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia is the author of Robot, This Sentimental Education and Yawning on the Sands. More work by Garcia can be found at

Brickwork by S.Eta Grubešić



S.Eta Grubešić


I’ m thirsty “, says the ground.

” It’s still not time to drink ” , say the hours.

” I’m cold ” , says the ground.

” It’s still not time to cover oneself ” , says the sky.

” It’s dark ” , says the ground.

” It’s still not time for light ” , says the day.

Neither time changes nor do people.

It’s just a semblance.


We entered the room together. I was hungry.

” There’s no light here ” , I said.

” I have no bread ” , she said.

We fed on darkness.


Like a wound.

Hackberry in the back yard.

Surround by the stony boundary.

It heals but hurts.


New graffiti on the wall.

A battle cry.

Neither the first not the last.

Conscientious objection.


I raise my hand in greeting.

Easily, just like a bird landing on a branch.

Afterwards, I caress the dead tree.

Bio: S.Eta Grubešić , is an ex-journalist, short story writer, poet and photographer. Her works have been published in various books, literary e-journals and portals.

Made Whole by Shloka Shankar

Made Whole


Shloka Shankar

We sit watching each other. Adorning the silence of our unsaid words. A car whizzes past every few minutes, and then, it is just the whistle of the trees as they reiterate our emptiness. I feel drained. In the last few hours, we have learned so much about each other. Things no one else will ever understand. The brokenness of our souls now made whole again. Not regretting any of it. A sense of abandonment that can only be shared with a select few. The once-in-a-lifetime kind of people. Who walk into your life and turn it upside down, inside and out. Leaving no stone unturned.

This was our sixth meeting. Probably the last one before a period of hiatus. I loved talking to him. It made me feel better. I didn’t feel like a mess anymore. My rants were just that. I wasn’t being judged for being me. A word that is as elusive as cupping water in my palms. The silence never overwhelming. Just someone who sits by my side and patiently listens to all that I have to lay bare. Things that are embedded deep in my subconscious. Things I never wanted to visit again. Digging into the ugly face of forgotten scars that will perhaps never be forgiven…

Bio: Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer residing in India. Her work appears in over two dozen anthologies includinqg The Dance of the Peacock, Emanations IV, The Living Haiku Anthology, Family Matters, The Traversal of Lines, and Eastern Voices among others. Her poems, erasures, haiku & tanka have appeared in numerous print and online journals. She is also the founder and editor of the literary and arts journal, Sonic Boom.