Featured

Featured items for the current week.

Featured Works: Week of Nov. 16 (Life Stages)

By on Nov 16, 2020 in Featured | Comments Off

The way we see the world can be strongly influenced by our age and our particular point in our life’s path, as this week’s contributors illustrate. “Who I Wanted to Be,” a poem by Judith Ann Levinson, presents a delicate portrait of a child’s hopes for her future. The poem “Wildflowering” by John Zedolik praises the beauty in imperfection that a teenager would overlook. In the short story, “The Bridge to Restitution,” Joe Ducato depicts a group of adolescent friends whose adult destinies draw closer. “For What It’s Worth,” a story by Stuart...

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Injured Shadow (v3)

By on Nov 16, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

In nakedness of life moves this male shadow worn out dark clothes, ill fitted in distress, holes in his socks, stretches, shows up in your small neighborhood, embarrassed, walks pastime naked with a limb in open landscape space— damn those worn out black stockings. He bends down prays for dawn, bright sun.   Hear Michael reading his own...

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For What It’s Worth

By on Nov 16, 2020 in Featured, Fiction | Comments Off

Woolworths at Cedarbrook Mall, just outside my home town of Philadelphia, didn’t look like much, but that was beside the point. Back in the Sixties, it was a great place for teenagers like me to visit during trips to the mall, especially the variety store’s record cut-out bin. Filled with carelessly tossed-in crap, near-crap, and the occasional gem, at 33 cents for a 45-rpm single, a buck for an LP, it invited those long on musical thirst and short on cash to find keys to their universe. One afternoon in 1968, I found one of mine, a rare version of Buffalo Springfield’s self-titled...

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The Bridge at Restitution

By on Nov 16, 2020 in Featured, Fiction | Comments Off

True definition is impossible – at least that’s what I’ve heard.  Each pair of eyes defines the world their own way.  To my eyes, it was about Jip and The MC (The Motley Crew).  To others, it was more about “the times.” Some people are tailor-made for the times. All I knew was Jip came to our school. and it seemed he was instantly an important piece of our puzzle; and we were a puzzle. Jip fit us perfectly: the funniest kid anyone had ever seen and a natural-born leader for natural-born followers. Our times?  It was the end of June and the end of a road for...

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Wildflowering

By on Nov 15, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

Pock-marked—yet her face is perfection, (or close enough for the reach of praise) each enlarged pore, pit a star in the banner weaving across sleek cheeks below the hunter eyes that pay no serious attention to past struggles with oil, hormones, and stress, but stake the opposing orbs that must notice the pinprick fields, blooms, before caught above, beyond the necessary...

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Who I Wanted to Be

By on Nov 15, 2020 in Featured, Poetry | Comments Off

Memory arises from a puckered, bent photo of that day. My cousin with her rich, sophisticated family enter our shack, the abomination of my stifled life. We do not have enough chairs. Children are left to stand or crouch near the screen door. I peek through a flimsy curtain hanging as a door to my tiny room, large enough for only a bunk and a box for my folded clothes. My cousin is eighteen. She wears a light blue linen dress with a peter pan collar, ankle socks and saddle shoes. She twists the ringlets at her shoulder. Her lavender scent reaches me as if from another world where I...

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