We all have a little Left Bank in us, now it’s time to share that with the world. If you... Read More
Read the submitted poetry by Mansu Edwards // New York City, and visit his website to learn about his book, Biscuits... Read More
leaving is not enough; you must stay gone. train your heart like a dog. change the locks even on the... Read More
In the early bloom the palette of the spring resembled shades of you. You were incandescent; the southern light revealing... Read More
Alexander Kollman – proclaimed keeper of the great big scroll, stoker of the furnace, aka Safari Al, aka S.al is... Read More
A day spent scoping out $1 book racks in Williamsburg // Brooklyn, walking around Greek and Roman sculptures at The... Read More
Now more than ever is a time to keep creating to preserve our sanity, stay connected with each other, and... Read More
We’ve received a new submission from Mansu Edwards and are extremely excited to share it with you all. Enjoy xx... Read More
I kind of wish I was posting this in May for Mother’s Day, but alas. Made in one sitting, NYIKO... Read More
For So Long. Anonymous The hours pass by Cars in the distance Hurts to watch you go In my head... Read More
Par les soirs bleus d’été, j’irai dans les sentiers, Picoté par les blés, fouler l’herbe menue : Rêveur, j’en sentirai la... Read More
The wheels of our existence turn on a regular basis thanks to your submissions, shout outs, ‘tip’ emails (“YOU’VE GOT... Read More
When I was ten, I said a crematorium was an ice cream parlor for dead people. Even as my father... Read More
Poem submitted by Kendra Quinn // St. Louis. View original here. How does it feel to be feared and hated by... Read More
By Mardaweh Tompo And the ground is riddled with the bullets from a pistol without a trigger, Holding hands soaked... Read More
This weekend I stepped out of my Brooklyn abode to check out some happening art fairs in the city. While... Read More
I like people quite well at a little distance. I like to see them passing and passing and going their... Read More
John Keats // 1795 – 1821 When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my... Read More
Spotted this gem of inspiration on Instagram from her piece, Salt. If you’re looking for a pick me up, or... Read More
Ce soir, la lune rêve avec plus de paresse ; Ainsi qu’une beauté, sur de nombreux coussins, Qui d’une main... Read More