Exterminating Angel Press

Creative Solutions for Practical Idealists.

Spring 2026: A Feral Bouquet.

Is it difficult?

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by Pulkita Anand.

clouds cross the borders
silence stays everywhere unflowing
the description of food is one of hunger in the cervices of silence
the letter of karma, dharma and shame frayed in the fight
the unending days with dark nights carrying the salt river
the light is at a distance, and it is pouring on the ground with a thud
the city in the cobweb, with homes turning into rubble and dust
the dove is nursing the wounds with fallen feathers
poets are trying to change the letter w to p
trying to turn the pages of history
looking for a seamstress to knit the torn hearts,
cut the hatred, darn the worn, cover the scars,
needle love, tie the broken,
button the distances, fit the nations
the dim light of a star is still flickering
let peace pour from the sky, from the shore, from the city
from creaks, from the barracks, from the borders ……

 

Scots pine and sea spray.

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by Cliff Beck. We’ve travelled many years to discover that we’re here where the air carries a bouquet of Scots pine and sea spray prompting memories of endless days on mountains, moorland and seashore; the immensity and intensity of it all making us feel so ephemeral, so small. Remember summer days spent under the trees, […]

Her Name Rhymed with Pamela.

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by Tamra Lucid. One of the most charming of our many bass players introduced her to me. She was way too cool for him, although he was cool, too, in a quirky way. He understood his lower rank, and she liked that about him. His adoration tickled her sense of irony. She said to me […]

Superbloom.

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by Marissa Bell Toffoli.   Bright poppies wave hello in a lucky breeze. Parched, we smile for the sun, move between what shade we can find or make for each other, your shadow inside mine. Feel your tired sighs, pause to catch our breath. My thirsty eyes want it all, the sweet saturation, as if […]

A Hole in the Night.

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by Lana Hechtman Ayers. after “Venetian Siesta” by Joseph Millar   I’ve never had a talent for sleep but when I do, it’s all dreams of lost rooms, rainstorms of rotten teeth water-falling from my mouth, still, I glissade through days wearing calm façades while inside my mind conducts a swing-shift sardine cannery, and in […]

Begin again.

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by Diana Morley. Take one. A party— a couple talking cornerwise shading their eyes from the lowering sun, she in a peach sheath he in creased khakis melted sunlight on her dry baguette slice showing the party’s over. Take two. Begin again. Shaman drum slow rising over the mundane while earth’s molten core pulls our […]

South Loudon St., Sunday Afternoon.

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by Sean Murphy. Sights unseeable, or striving to be unseen, Sunday being the day of rest. Humans hidden or missing in inaction, dispersed like a bombed-out anthill, sucking on poison fumes and marinating in distress—followed by unconcern. A steady scent of sun-baked urine spiced up, at times, by freshly sparked spliffs, gang-greened grass drowning in […]

A Dangerous Scent.

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by Barry Vitcov. Sitting on a creek-side boulder just after daybreak. Light filtering through dewy air like sprinkles on a donut. It’s cool, crisp, and green as he watches for a pair of river otters seen the day before when the fog would not retreat. He is being still, shoulders relaxed, a non-aggressive posture allowing […]