Poetry from Mickey Corrigan

Hwa-byung

Hwa-byung will make you
yell at your children
fight with your family
go all red in the face
leap from your chair
shaking knuckled fists.

This rising heart fire 
takes hold of you:
poor and uneducated
a stuck-at-home wife.

Hwa-byung will ruin
your eating and sleeping
grinding on old grudges
seeping anger in rages
too long suppressed.

The rising heart fire
takes hold of men too:
frustrated, mortified
bad jobs with bad bosses
who don’t show respect
who reek of injustice
until you smolder inside.

Hwa-byung is Korean
for a mental disorder
that may afflict anyone
who withholds their anger
that builds in intensity
burns its way out
bursts through walls
tears down framing
explodes like a bomb

hollowing you out
in ways you don’t expect.

NOTE:
Once classified under depressive disorders, hwa-byung is a culture-bound condition found only in Korea. It was thought to be limited to disgruntled housewives with passive husbands and overbearing in-laws. It is now being diagnosed in male employees who are full of anxiety, nihilistic ideas, and regret about their lives.

No Joke

On lovely Lake Victoria
on the border with Uganda
three female students
at a missionary boarding school
began to laugh and laugh

and they couldn’t stop
and they didn’t stop
and more students joined in
and they couldn’t study
and they couldn’t eat
and they couldn’t sleep
and they couldn’t do anything
but laugh, laugh ’til it hurt
’til they were in pain and
crying between laughing jags
so the school closed down.

When school opened back up
the laughing started back up
so the school closed down.

Some girls arrived home
in their small rural villages
still laughing and laughing
and village girls laughed too
some boys, some adults
and it spread, and spread
to more than 200 people
laughing and laughing
for more than a year

and the experts blamed
the emotional dissonance
of a radical cultural shift
from tribal communities
to a modern way of life.

Laughter is said to be
the best of all medicines
but must always be taken
in a moderate dose.


NOTE:
The laughter epidemic was a mass psychogenic event that occurred in Tanganyika in 1962, soon after the country achieved independence. Schoolgirls brought the illness home to their villages and it spread wildly before disappearing.

The country is now known as Tanzania.

The Witches of Leroy

A pretty cheerleader fell down
and that’s how it all began
in the upstate New York town
that invented jiggly Jell-O.

She screamed and flailed about
cursing as if possessed
cuss words she’d never say…
she was not that kind of girl.

Her best friend suddenly ticced
convulsing, crazed, she ran wild
and sixteen other girls in town
swearing, thrashing, crashing
got rushed to the hospital
their parents hysterical
the ER in chaos
the nurses, doctors puzzled
as testing found no cause.

A rumor began to circulate
about a toxic spill
from a train derailment
but testing showed no toxins
on the high school grounds.

Erin Brockovich was invited
to speak and attract the media
declaring a chemical poisoning
with opinion taken as fact.

But why only teenage girls?
From chemicals miles away?
Spilled four decades prior?
Before the girls were born?

Time slid by as it always does
the parents demanding answers
accountability and recourse
long after their girls recovered
left for college and life away
from the town that created Jell-O.

NOTE:
Mass outbreaks of psychogenic illnesses have occurred in schools in many parts of the world. These events used to happen in convents and were once deemed satanic. Religious and shamanic interventions were employed when illnesses were medically inexplicable.

In the modern world, mass anxiety hysteria (acting crazy) and mass motor hysteria (sleeping sickness or convulsions) are social phenomena without identified physical pathology. Outbreaks are usually limited to the young and are believed to be triggered by issues in the community: emerging sexuality amidst social repression, poverty, dislocation, hopelessness.

Poetry from elementary school students in China, collected by Su Yun

Artsy image of a young East Asian man in his twenties looking off to the right and behind a hazy reflecting piece of glass. He's in a blue collared shirt.

蹬车者

我好奇他能拾到什么

面对着蒿草的隐没

他只能伸手去摸索

我后背着手走过

风从跌宕的日子里带来七嘴八舌

将我推近去看他的战果

存留在染泥的三轮车

烂炮纸与旧车链

不如拾一把蒿草点了火

不如拣几块砖头堆住所

不久他挺起身子举起新找的斧戈

生锈的颜色却能斩断绳索

斩断他以住生活里缠上身的绳索

他转身还举起另一件战果

不会关闭的留声机抚耳以音波

我祈愿它永远唱着歌

一方出声万林和

一人欢心万鸟乐

红炮纸和旧车链扬开苦涩

击开七嘴八舌

开阔的前路告诉我

有一颗燃烧的心何需点火

有一辆随性的三轮车何需住所

The Cyclist蹬车者

What treasures he might unearth

amidst the weeds’ retreat

His hands fumble through the shadows

While I observe with clasped hands

Winds carry whispers from turbulent days

Drawing me closer to witness his discoveries

Displayed upon his mud-spattered tricycle

Faded firecracker remnants and weathered chains

Perhaps better to gather weeds and kindle flame

Perhaps better to collect stones and build refuge

Soon he rises, proudly holding his newfound weapon

Rusty in appearance, yet sharp enough to sever bonds

To cut free from the entangling ropes of existence

He turns, revealing another prize

A broken phonograph, still breathing melodies into the air

I hope its song continues eternally

When one voice rises, 

forests echo in harmony

When one heart finds joy,

 birds join in celebration

Discarded firecracker papers and chains release bitterness

Silencing the chorus of critical voices

The open path before us reveals this truth

A heart already aflame needs no spark

A free-spirited tricycle needs no shelter

Su Yun, 17 years old, is a member of the Chinese Poetry Society and a young poet. His works have been published in more than ten countries. He has published two poetry collections in China, namely Inspiration from All Things and Wisdom and Philosophy, and one in India titled WITH ECSTASY OF MUSINGS IN TRANQUILITY. He has won the Guido Gozzano Orchard Award in Italy, the Special Award for Foreign Writers in the City of Pomezia, and was praised by the organizing committee as the “Craftsman of Chinese Lyric Poetry”. He has also received the “Cuttlefish Bone” Best International Writer Award for those under 25.

我也想庆祝夜的生日

河北省石家庄市藁城区工业路小学 苏墨琰 10岁

夜的生日什么时候开始

小飞蛾趴在玻璃上提醒我

天空已摆好月亮蛋糕

插上星星蜡烛

蟋蟀和纺织娘开始歌唱

树叶哗啦啦鼓掌

风送来花香

灯光献上祝福

就连梦也和夜视频通话

祝他生日快乐

我也想庆祝夜的生日

其实,我趴在窗前

已经悄悄地帮他

关掉太阳

I Also Want to Celebrate the Night’s Birthday

By Su Moyan, 10 years old, Gongye Road Primary School, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

When does the night’s birthday start?

The little moth on the glass reminds me

The sky has set up a moon cake

With star candles inserted

Crickets and katydids start singing

Leaves applaud rustlingly

The wind sends the fragrance of flowers

Lights offer blessings

Even dreams have a video call with the night

Wishing him a happy birthday

I also want to celebrate the night’s birthday

In fact, I lean by the window

And have quietly helped him

Turn off the sun

窗帘

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛润楠 9岁

风是个捣蛋鬼

把我们教室的窗帘

一会儿变胖

一会儿变瘦

胖窗帘像个孕妇

同学从窗帘后面

探头走出来

胖孕妇秒变瘦妈妈

Curtain

By Xue Runnan, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

The wind is a troublemaker

It makes the curtain of our classroom

Now fat

Now thin

The fat curtain is like a pregnant woman

When classmates peek out from behind the curtain

The fat pregnant woman instantly becomes a thin mother

春天的火车

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 李思锦 9岁

花朵是春天的火车

一开动火车

就听到一阵阵香的震动

Spring’s Train

By Li Sijin, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Flowers are spring’s train

As soon as the train starts moving

We hear bursts of fragrant vibrations

月光走秀

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛嘉一 9岁

月光

穿上雪白的裙子

像一位白雪公主

在人间走秀

忽然

她跌倒了

月光碎了

月光花开了

Moonlight Fashion Show

By Xue Jiayi, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Moonlight

Puts on a snow-white dress

Like a Snow White

Walking a show on earth

Suddenly

She stumbles

Moonlight shatters

Moonlight flowers bloom

抢龙珠

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛舜兮 9岁

夕阳西下

几缕云围着落日

像极了几条龙

在抢一颗龙珠

Snatching the Dragon Ball

By Xue Shunxi, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

As the sun sets

Several wisps of clouds surround the setting sun

Just like several dragons

Snatched a dragon ball

美丽的雪花

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 马崡旭 9岁

冬天

雪花打扮得

漂漂亮亮的

她们穿上洁白的裙子

跳着洁白的舞蹈

讲着洁白的故事

Beautiful Snowflakes

By Ma Hanxu, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

In winter

Snowflakes dress up

Prettily

They put on white dresses

Dance white dances

Tell white stories

小鸟

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛畅 9岁

窗外的小鸟

学着我们的样子

叽叽喳喳读课文

我们停下来

它们还在读

老师宣布

小鸟读得最快乐

Birds

By Xue Chang, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Birds outside the window

Learn from us

Chirping and reading textbooks

When we stop

They keep reading

The teacher announces

Birds read the happiest

花朵上的雨滴

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 刘怡杉 9岁

乌云开工了

用自己国家的小水晶

给花朵们穿上

自己亲手制作的水晶鞋

Raindrops on Flowers

By Liu Yishan, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Dark clouds start working

With small crystals from their own country

Dress the flowers

In crystal shoes made by themselves

花梦

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛子航 9岁

把我的灯关了

把我的门关了

把我的耳朵关了

把我拉进花的梦中

给我一个清醒的鼻子

Flower Dream

By Xue Zihang, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Turn off my lights

Close my door

Shut my ears

Pull me into a flower dream

Give me a sober nose

热闹的秋雨

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 顼艺安 9岁

小雨滴在天上乱跑

落下的时候

还在叽叽喳喳地叫

来到地面又开始聊天

好热闹的秋雨

Lively Autumn Rain

By Xu Yian, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Little raindrops run wild in the sky

When falling

They still chirp and shout

When they come to the ground, they start chatting again

What a lively autumn rain

小蜜蜂住酒店

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 韩鑫佑 9岁

沙沙沙

下雨了

被雨淋湿的小蜜蜂

急急忙忙钻进一朵小花

甜甜的花酒

美美的花床

小蜜蜂

躺在花朵酒店里

睡着了

Little Bees in the Flower Hotel

By Han Xinyu, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Shasha Sha

It’s raining!

Little bees soaked by the rain

Hurry into a tiny flower—

Sweet flower wine,

A beautiful flower bed…

The little bees

Lie in their flower hotel

And drift off to sleep.

猫与云

河北省石家庄市藁城区贾市庄镇贯庄小学 薛梓阳 9岁

一到阴天

小猫就害怕出门

因为云朵的眼泪

让它担心

自己柔软的皮毛

会被云要回去

Cats and Clouds

By Xue Ziyang, 9 years old, Guanzhuang Primary School, Jiashizhuang Town, Gaocheng District, Shijiazhuang City, Hebei Province

Whenever it’s cloudy

The kitten is afraid to go out

Because of the clouds’ tears

It worries

That its soft fur

Will be taken back by the clouds

Middle aged brown-haired European woman in the lower right hand corner. Flags above from various different countries, gray background, text reads "Poetry Unites People. Eva Petropolou Lianou, International Poet."

POETRY Unites people

We are traveling with words and with our talents.

EVA Petropoulou Lianou, founder of literary project,” Poetry Unites people,” works closely with a very talented young student in China 

Su Yun is a young poet who has shown an interest in the role of art, especially poetry, for young people’s education.

We cooperate and we exchange poems that are published in China and Greece.

Here you can find some poems written by young students. 

The project is called

 “Youth and Poetry”.

**If any teacher or school in Europe or Greece is interested and wants to participate in our project

POETRY Unites people “Youth and Poetry”

you can send email with your personal details to eviepara@yahoo.fr.

Poetry from Svetlana Rostova

God

Maybe some people. Just weren’t meant. To know God. All the years.     All gone to waste.    The centuries spent searching.      The

fireball fights.      The blood spilling onto the crimson tiles.     Is this a

meaningless fight?       We fight for love, we fight against God.      Perhaps this

is what we were meant to do.      Not worship Him.    Fear him.  

 How can a horrible earth not be born from a monster?     Is beauty a trap?  

 Meant to pacify the tormentor? You know what they say.  A person in

jail who never realizes they are in jail.    Will stay in jail forever.   Was it so easy?

We can’t be all alone in this universe.     They recite love as proof of God.    

  But is love a curse or a blessing?   Happiness?       One of those

things they give, like rations?         All the curses disguised as gifts? To

keep you from ever wanting to leave?  But then why do people want?

 To leave?

Poetry from Cheng Yong

Middle aged East Asian man with short dark hair and reading glasses in a gray coat and white collared top standing in front of a closet.

The years that the night is judged by the sun

The years that the night is judged by the sun

Whistle blowing became unpredictable weather

Owls, weasels in dark holes

Even ants

In the age of brightness

don’t know where to go, alley

With countless lyrical faces

The leaves of the trees smile with delight

and you’re hiding from the dawn

In the darkness of the night

On the street, Once you meet the people

Invisible body

Hide your evil and stand still

Shiver or deliver the fear

  • Flowers and flowers, mutual suspicion

At that time, I did not understand

My home is planted with the flower of sin

Arguing in this convicted garden

Flowers and flowers, mutual suspicion

Why and where

I just find out

Alone, with my back to the sun, thinking

Eventually, the rhizome is broken and out of the land

And the birds fly back from afar

Staring blankly at the sky

Difficult to find the nest at dusk

Time drinks down sorrow

Often looking for a man called Zen

Trying to put puzzles on the side of the road

Waiting for the birds to pass through

Feeling the wind in this direction

In the ahead Inn, with the gap on the white wall

Time  drinks down sorrow

The shabby house is old for a long time

No a drop of wine can be added to the drinker any more

The cracking windows seem to guide

you into yesterday

And into the mottled wheat field

(Tr. By Amy)

Cheng Yong, born in Shanghai. Writing poetry and cultural relic appraisal. 21 literary and cultural relic appraisal works have been published. Selected International Poems of the Chinese and Foreign Writers Association (Editor in Chief), novels “Delingha Prisoner” and “The Beauty of the Official Kiln”. The long poem “A Thousand Line Elegy” was published in the United States, among others.

Essay from Jasmina Rashidov

With the prevalence of social media and growing societal expectations, it has become increasingly common for individuals to voice their frustrations and opinions online, particularly in technologically advanced societies. While there are valid reasons for expressing dissatisfaction on such platforms, I strongly assert that this trend has both harmful consequences and meaningful benefits. On the one hand, it may increase negativity and affect mental health; on the other, it can raise public awareness and lead to quicker solutions for social problems.

One of the major consequences of this trend is the spread of negativity online, which can significantly impact individuals’ mental well-being. As more people share complaints and disappointments about their lives, it creates a cycle of emotional dissatisfaction that others are exposed to daily. This constant exposure can lead users to feel more anxious, discontent, or even inferior, especially when comparing their own lives to what they see online. Over time, such emotional stress can damage people’s mental health and reduce the overall positivity of online spaces.

Despite these downsides, public complaints on social media also offer a significant benefit: they can serve as a catalyst for change. By bringing issues such as poor infrastructure, low-quality services, or political concerns into the public eye, individuals can draw attention from government bodies, service providers, and the media. For example, in Uzbekistan, citizens often highlight poor road conditions via social platforms. In many cases, these posts go viral and prompt authorities to respond quickly. In this way, social media empowers ordinary people to contribute to community development and hold institutions accountable.

In conclusion, although venting frustrations on social media can negatively affect users’ mental health by spreading pessimism and stress, it also allows people to highlight societal problems and demand immediate action. Thus, while the trend may carry emotional risks, it plays a vital role in raising awareness and pushing for positive change.

My name is Rashidova Jasmina, daughter of Bahodir. I was born on November 23rd, 2008, in Shakhrisabz district, located in the Kashkadarya Region of Uzbekistan. I am currently a 10th-grade student at School No. 74.

Throughout my academic journey, I have proudly taken part in numerous educational grants, national seminars, and academic meetings. I am a winner of several contests and competitions dedicated to education and innovation. Notably, I was a finalist in both the “BBG” and “FO” programs, which further motivated my passion for leadership and community development.

One of my most prestigious achievements includes being awarded the “Katta Liderlar” grant, which recognizes young emerging leaders in Uzbekistan. I also had the honor of participating as a delegate representing Switzerland in a Model United Nations (MUN) conference, where I strengthened my skills in diplomacy, negotiation, and global issues.

In addition to my academic accomplishments, I run my own educational channel, where I teach and mentor students in various subjects. I am also the founder and instructor of a Pixel Art course, where I combine creativity with digital skills to inspire others in the field of design and technology.

Synchronized Chaos First June Issue 2025: Revival and Rejuvenation

Red roses growing in a pot over a gray fenced balcony on an old stone building.
Image c/o Linnaea Mallette

First, here are a few announcements.

Jeff Rasley’s released a new book, Presbyterian vs Methodist Youth Group Rumble in Pokagon Park. This is a light-hearted satire of teen life and the heightened emotions of the age.

Jacques Fleury was also invited to the Boston Public Library’s Author Showcase to show off his title You Are Enough: The Journey Towards Accepting Your Authentic Self.

The National Storytelling Championship seeks online submissions from Indian nationals living in all parts of the world.

Now for our new issue, Revival and Rejuvenation.

Elderly European couple in hats and coats and scarves seated with serious faces at teatime with a teapot and teacups on a table. Cat and houseplants and open window in the background.
Jean-Francois Raffaelli’s Afternoon Tea

Christopher Bernard celebrates the photography of urban chronicler Vivian Maier and the recent rediscovery of her work.

Gopal Lahiri’s poetry looks over varied landscapes – aging city infrastructure, a painted teatime scene, a rainstorm – with a painter’s thoughtful eye.

Wazed Abdullah draws on soft, childlike language to elegantly portray a monsoon rain in Bangladesh. Don Bormon writes in a similar style of the rain’s return in the region after a hot sunny summer. Tamoghna Dey speaks to the strength and flexibility of water as a metaphor.

Eva Petropoulou Lianou finds union with nature on her daily walk, taking inspiration from its diversity and authenticity. David Sapp’s poetry highlights our human connection to the rest of nature through musings on barns, fields, and a dead cat.

Double rainbow in a blue cloudy sky over the mostly flat English countryside, plains and trees.
Photo from Anna Langova

Chimezie Ihekuna revels in the beauty of nature and the intricate ways in which its systems work and creatures survive, but warns of its destruction. Graciela Noemi Villaverde also urges care for the natural world and highlights how natural systems can self-heal and regenerate.

Sayani Mukherjee revels in the passage of seasons in nature as Kylian Cubilla Gomez explores the hidden world of snails, centering the small mollusk in his photos. Sara Hunt-Flores reflects on the sun lighting her path, helping her distinguish illusion from reality.

Svetlana Rostova uses nature metaphors to convey the breadth and intensity of her past experiences. Mahbub Alam compares falling in love to the wonder of seeing a firefly. Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumnova illuminates the way love can revive a person and rejuvenate their life. Dr. Prasanna Kumar Dalai evokes memory and the ecstasy of falling in love. Mesfakus Salahin pleads with a lover to take him back as a response to his enduring feelings.

Stephen Jarrell Williams reflects on the poignancy and power of stories: those in books and those of family love and passing generations. Kassandra Aguilera’s poetry expresses love that remains despite troubled parental relationships. Bill Tope’s short story addresses a platonic and artistic friendship between a man and a woman and the tragic social disapproval that drives them apart.

Group of silhouetted people on a beach at sunset or sunrise. Yellow sky behind the clouds near the horizon, water heading out at low tide.
Image c/o Mohammed Mahmoud Hassan

Scott C. Holstad probes various sorts of physical and emotional desire. Duane Vorhees speaks to birth and death, love and war, then turns to a personal blues poem about feeling disillusioned by faith.

Gordana Saric offers up a prayer for personal compassion and global peace. Brian Barbeito shares daily musings on meaning and ethics and and speculates on our individual lives’ effects on the universe. Inayatullah encourages us all to look inward and heal our inner wounds and forgive each other in order to change the world on a larger scale.

Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa shares the hope and strength and healing she finds through her faith. K. Sayyid Mubashir Hadhi explicates the spiritual and cultural significance of Eid Al-Adha. Timothee Bordenave’s old-style pieces express his spiritual faith and desire for universal oneness. Bruce Mundhenke expresses how faith and wisdom can outlast our technologies and our inhumanity to each other. R.K. Singh calls us to ethnic and religious tolerance based on the world’s complex history and celebrates physical and spiritual love.

Dr. Jernail Singh speculates on how literature and drama, religious or not, can inspire moral development as well as catharsis, when villainy and evil are stopped. Matthew Kinlin interviews Kenneth M. Cale about the inspirations and creative process behind his book Midnight Double Feature: Director’s Cut, a stand against the growing darkness he sees in the world.

Fountain pen made of metal and wood, on a black canvas with light shining on it.
Image c/o Pixabay

Lidia Popa describes the power of writing to transmute ideas and feelings into a mode of communication from one soul to another. Haroon Rashid outlines the role of silence, observation, and empty space for thoughtful writing in his ars poetica.

Xadjiyeva Nodira studies idioms and whether the phrases can take on different meanings within the same language. Kaljanova Gulmira’s paper outlines the benefits of having a language learner “shadow” a native speaker. Shahnoza Ochildiyeva’s essay explicates the complex task of translation and how, as of now, translation requires a human being with cultural awareness.

Isabel Gomes de Diego’s photography celebrates human and natural creativity in various forms: origami, sewing, typing. Bahora Mansurova turns to the craft of medicine, discussing ways to treat periodontal diseases. Linda S. Gunther reviews Kristina McMorris’ suspense novel of the newsroom, Sold on a Monday.

Nozima Gofurova describes an educational visit to Tashkent’s Mirzo Hotel, where she learned about Central Asian art and history. Joseph Ogbonna highlights the majesty and historical influence of ancient Egyptian civilization. Maja Milojkovic’s ekphrastic work draws inspiration from the strength of ancient Herakles.

Black and white woodcut of two women cooking in a large pot on a fire. They're picking fruit from houseplants and collecting sunlight for solar power.
Sultana’s Dream, Cooking with Light, Woodcut from Chitra Ganesh

Z.I. Mahmud explores feminist speculative literature in India and the works of Begum Rokeya Sakhawat Hossein. Bhagirath Choudhary, in a piece translated by Eva Petropoulou Lianou, advocates for respect for women and for society to celebrate positive traits traditionally associated with the nurturing feminine.

Eva Petropoulou Lianou speaks of her intimate and demanding relationship with her female poetic muse. Isaac Dominion Aju reflects on the artistic inspiration he received from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, whose work helped him to find his own voice. Donna Dallas’ poetic speakers find writing inspiration from a quiet morning, a busy urban city full of desire, and the throes of drug addiction. Hauwa’u Naseer Mukhtar evokes the peace and creative source of solitude as Chloe Schoenfeld resolutely affirms her claim to her own soul.

Kelly Moyer’s asemic poetry invites us to the experience of appreciating writing and art, even without literal meaning. Ric Carfagna’s poetry touches on perception, how we experience and make sense of our world.

Loki Nounou reflects on life’s unpredictability, as S. Afrose exposes existence’s slippery nature, complex and hard to pin down and define. Utso Bhattacharyya’s short story involves an ordinary man’s visit to a surreal reality existing alongside and within our own.

Hooded bodiless figure in a graveyard at night, lit up by moonlight. Trees and foliage and a giant Celtic cross tombstone.
Image c/o Kai Stachowiak

Alex S. Johnson’s horror tale probes the insidious way oppression works not only through violence, but also through individual and social gaslighting. Mark Young’s poetry crafts off-kilter scenes where people and other creatures adjust to their settings.

J.J. Campbell turns to poignant nostalgia while experiencing slow trauma. John Angelo Camomot’s verse speaks to the grief of losing a loved one and the comfort of memories.

Sean Meggeson’s humorous tales probe our relationships with authority and failures of communication. On the theme of authority, Taylor Dibbert observes wryly that leaders who are least affected by policies are often the first to advocate for them.

Mykyta Ryzhykh’s short story depicts war as an unwelcome trespasser, refusing to communicate its intentions or ask permission to occupy someone’s basement. Ahmed Miqdad laments the suffering of civilians in Gaza while expressing hope for the region. Combat veteran Steven Croft speculates on goals for a possible return to United States military intervention in Afghanistan and hopes they will finally get girls back to school.

Sadoqat Qahramonovna To’rayeva reflects on pursuing education as a child and teen in his humble farming village. Marjona Baxtiyorovna sends out a tribute to education and graduating students.

We hope this issue is educational, inspiring, and enjoyable!

Short story from Alex S. Johnson

The Claw

The older man was buried in thought.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said the younger man, scratching an inflamed patch on his neck.
“Oh, sorry, I was lost there. Could you repeat the question?” came a voice from the back of the plain white panel van. He moved out of the shadows. The younger man responded with revulsion which he attempted to disguise. There was something uncanny about the older man, who wore a thick uncombed beard and had pale blue eyes that seemed to be floating in a sea of glue.


“I just wanted to know what you were, I mean, w-what you were…”
“What we’re doing here?”
“Yeah.”
“We have orders. Targeting, usual protocol.” He patted his laptop, which was attached to a 17 inch monitor that showed an infra-green 3D portrait of the subject’s body, tracked in real time, with a cross-section of their brain highlighting the parietal and temporal lobes.


“Soo basically what we’re doing…” the older man scratched his own neck, fished in his pocket for a cigarette, found a sole Marlboro Red and fired it up with a silver Deadhead Zippo. “We’re using the old Raven’s Claw to pulverize the subject’s brain. Slow cooking. We can fry them deep and they’ll never be able to track the beams back. The entire idea is to cause the subject to completely despair after incurring massive brain damage from no known source.”


The young man had heard all this information recounted countless times, but he asked every night nevertheless, like a child anxious to hear his favorite bedtime story.
“This man must have done some fucked up shit to merit…extrajudicial punishment,” he managed, struggling to enunciate the syllables.


“Yeah, not really,” said the older man.
“What do you mean, ‘not really?'” Again, the younger man had heard this too recounted countless times; it just amazed him that he was playing a vital role in the 24 hour government sponsored torture and mutilation of a U.S. citizen who, as far as he could tell, was really innocent of any crime whatsoever.


“He’s on the list, that’s all we need to know.”
The audio feed clicked on. The two men simultaneously started as the target first groaned, then screamed into the void.
“Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!”
On the screen, a trickle of tears down his beautiful face.
“He must have done SOMETHING wrong,” said the younger man again, seeking assurance.


“Not really,” said the older man, letting out a wet fart.
“So, he’s been accused of crimes he didn’t commit, and our job is to ensure that he eventually succumbs to his injuries and attempts suicide?”
“Yuppers.”
“It’s so cruel, it’s almost…sublime.”


“Fucking A right, like some Marquis De Sade shit. Do you wanna do some crank?” The older man thumbed the volume on the speakers, muting the shrieks.
“Yeah, ok, it’s the good shit you got from that chick in West Sac, right?”

“Fucking A right.”
“So what’s going to happen to his mom and dad, in their 80s, with no one to take care of them after he finally commits?”
“You know the answer.”
“I do?”


“Yeah you do. Shit, his old man will have a heart attack, his mom will die of a broken heart. They’ll look at our dude’s Kaiser Permanente record and write him off as a head case. The man will be instantly forgotten, his memory erased like tears in the rain.”

“Ya know, this shit is really bumming me out.”
“Then let’s talk about his bereft, super hot girlfriend who will be left vulnerable and in need of..comforting, shall we say.”
“Yes, let’s.”‘