Winter 2021: Errors of the Gods

by Chris Farago.

Today I’ve been exasperated
and indignant
and somewhat kind
when it was necessary.
I saw a deer
and a crescent moon,
and as I write this
I can hear the crickets
over the whir of the ceiling fan.
The right edge of this poem
is jagged,
the left, uniform.
I could try to smooth it out
the way I used kindness
to smooth out
exasperation
and indignation.
I think it better, though,
to leave it rough
and let the deer
and the crickets
and the moon
have a place to hide.

by Sean Murphy. Is it possible Hitler’s depraved accomplice had a sense of humor? How else to account for those locales he chose? Unsullied landscapes unfit for grotesque deeds: Assailing Nature’s mise-en-scène. Or did he believe he was acting in accordance with his whiter God’s wishes? Or worse, revamping the rough draft of a divine […]

by David D. Horowitz. An ancient Roman emperor typically fancied himself divine and expected to be declared an actual god (“divus”) upon his death. As a god, or proto-god, an emperor could enjoy fantastic luxury—access to a harem of three hundred beautiful women and some young boys, if that was his preferred taste; feasts featuring […]

by Bruce E. R. Thompson. On the afternoon of January 4th, 2019, I found myself in the depths of the Red Pyramid in Egypt, looking out a long shaft at a little patch of sky. My wife and I were planning a river cruise up the Nile River, but we arrived in Cairo a few […]

by Jim Meirose.   Okay, hello. Are you Rennie? Oh yes of course you are, and I hope you are ready. Ready for what, do I mean? No, no. Don’t try knowing because it won’t matter. It never has, doesn’t now, and will likely not be even when it’s all over, and you leave. When […]

by Marissa Bell Toffoli. The clouds elude you. Don’t let it matter. Open yourself to the shadows. Notice leaf, blossom, twig, flute, flutter, screech, scratch. Heavy is your moss-covered heart. Listen for the whisper of your roots. Let the day’s tangerine fingers caress you. Blue wind will float your thoughts if you free them. Your […]

by Mark Robinson. A man of sorrows Bold as a lion Calls everything by name Despite his sadness. Every day we have to choose— Forget the system of rewards, Glance at the sky and look for any bit of blue. He came all this way and he still isn’t happy. Interring the bodies in the […]

by Benjamin White. The Sins of God XXVI Indecent forms of holy Neglect abuse the needs Made common by hunger Yearning to overcome Famine of body, soul, And mind caught behind The design of anger that goodness Hates to admit, but must Each time it surfaces Reaching for the purposes Somehow lost in the grasp… […]

by T.C. Eisele. It is a typical night in the Palace on Mount Olympus with Apollo and his orchestra on the bandstand and the Gods sitting around a lavish banquet table in their finest Haute Couture. As the wine flows and ripples of laughter move in and out of the music filled air, a beautiful […]