Author: Lion and Lilac
Dumebi | Aishat Adesanya | Fiction
Part 1 The two Bible-clutching Jehovah’s Witness preachers knocking on the door of House 8 on Moferere Street had no idea, but the stones that were coming for them were only stopped by what the little girl in dirtied school uniform thought was a brilliant idea. She brought her raised hand down with the rough-edged […]
To the Letter Writer(s) at the TV Licensing Office | Ibrahim Babátúndé Ibrahim | Essay
The first time I received a letter from you in December 2021, it came in the midst of several others. It stood out with the bright red lettering that peeked from its see-through envelope. All the letters made one demand or the other. Pounds, pounds, pounds, otherwise threat, threats, threats. In fact, your threats in […]
Two Poems | Juanita Rey
THE SHAKE OF THE HEAD I’m sitting on a park bench, with paper and pen, working on a new poem. Only old men stop and ask me what I’m doing. I say, “Writing poetry. They shake their heads and move on. Then I spy this guy I know. He comes […]
On the road to Greenland | Ian C Smith | CNF
Needing respite from factories, blast furnaces, I read Laurie Lee’s As I Walk Out One Midsummer Morning yearning to walk out myself – any morning would do – also wanting some best years of my life to remember when older. With minimal skills, even less education, bank balance unbalanced, gripped in the gap between family […]
Two Poems | Andre Peltier
Clear Walloon To sleep the sleep of days, cleansed by the water of clear Walloon. To sleep the amphibian sleep of salamanders, sirens and mudpuppies, eyes shut tight like The Annex doors on Sunday morning. In a den of simplicity, caring not for the big city or the shadows in the dark, caring not […]
Three Poems | Ahmad Al-khatat
When I Live and Die I don’t have to look up at the stars again, I won’t hold. the blade of shame against my flesh by myself in my room. I shed a tear like an alcoholic. I laugh and laugh like a smoker. then I dance up there like a clown wondering […]
TO THE PASSER BY | Fiorella Ruas | Play
To The Passer By a monologue by Fiorella Ruas A homeless bi-gender street entertainer called JO-JOE does a cartwheel by a wall. Falls. Lifts themselves up. Backs up. Bends down to pick up two juggling sticks. Throws […]
Three Poems | David Howerton
—In front of coffee shop— Slim jeans strut by impish smile leading, trip on feet she doesn’t care sways hips even more. —getting by on— Friday the 13th again, just another day, getting by. Doesn’t seem like much, yet you live through so many, wanting something to reach out…. Of […]
Four Poems | Patricia Nelson
So Many Serpentine Monsters This thumb-wide, hissing spine grew fatter as you slept. A crooked line now slips across the daylit stones and lifts the blue light in a swaying mouth. Pause your thudding boots, your bright-red, stumbling heart. Let strangeness taste you with its split gray tongue. […]
Le Marais | Stephen House | Poetry
her voice caresses my moment and i snap too – shaken back from the fog to this moment in Le Marais, where i have stopped my never-ending pacing, my foot peeling mind numbing crawl, all day and into the dawn. and she continues in words i can’t grip but should. i’ve been here awhile now […]