Back to Issue 5

Glitter by Francesca Rebecca Calabrese

I spied one moth white
flying against a stormy november night
and she was me
destined for disaster
but rare and alive nonetheless
perhaps one distant day
nameless we'll be pressed
in a yellowing page
fragments of an age
once moonlit and warm
mistaking any given ray of light
for the morn

Ville by Francesca Rebecca Calabrese

I come from a place
they don't kiss cheeks
hello and goodbye
they wave from the street-side
but rarely smile
Friday nights at sleepy bars
I sleep through the games
pick ups and take homes
that lost appeal
and so surreal
that peace
is found in city streets
heat soaked pavement
leaving behind the doves
and forgetting the main street
the mile long stretch
of small town madness