The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
This week, we’re presenting you with a book review, written by one of our recent slush readers and Pushcart nominee, Amita Basu. Published by Vox …
“Dad was on his way, said, Trust me, Elise. Said stop your bellyaching, said For crying out loud I’m on my way.” – excerpt from Dadless, a poem by Elise Glassman #TheMetaworker #literarymagazines #poetrycommunity
“At 4 months, a baby in the womb is 6 and a half to 7 inches long. A medium cantaloupe measures 15 to 25 centimeters. If an ovarian cyst is over 6 centimeters, it should be removed.” – excerpt from Numbers by Kathryn D. Temple #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“I’d gone to Pinkerton since I was born, but I never noticed the trees until that spring day, when my mind finally cleared of distractions to notice nature’s beauty.” – excerpt from Walking the Parks by Seth Wright #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“I used to think that love was a kind of violence… Because tonight I’m hooked on you like a knife caught in my throat.” – excerpt from Suckers by Campbell Brown @p0cketwatch3s #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“Our neighbors are here, as real as the promise that hair grows. I am as shy as my long bangs will allow, but at Village Cuts, we see one another.” – excerpt from It Takes a Village Cuts, non-fiction by Angela Townsend #MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
“The woods are dark. The are so very dark and full of sounds.” – excerpt from After Dark, Memorial Park by Neil Ellis Orts @neowrites #TheMetaworker #ForgeFriday
“It was a kind of transformation we could witness like astral projection but of our entire being. We spoke broken English, which she was proud of.” – Excerpt from “My English Teacher” by Bharti Bansal @useless_thought25 #MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
Creative Non-Fiction Micros by Kevin Browne #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“I longed to brush my lips next to yours– to taste the tang of rubies on your tongue.” excerpt from Rubies by Carol E. Anderson #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
At that moment, my internal gears pushed against the wall of my chest and like clockwork an alarm went off so instead of sitting alone, content with my coq au vin, I was confronted with the desire to know more about you… #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“The bang came afterwards, as if the earth had just regained consciousness and gravity returned with violent force.”
#MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
The only word I understand is monsieur. A sling of unintelligible French blindsides me as I walk down the street; and though I have no …
On my sister’s 21st birthday, I visited her at the Cook County Jail. Looking back, I wish I hadn’t been so annoyed to see her …
Trigger Warning: sexual themes and abuse In my career as a sex worker, I accept gifts with poise and grace. It’s an odd twist in …
Prologue to a Memoir Based on Love Letters to my Dead Husband By Margaret S. Mandell Sunday, December 10, 2017 My Dearest Love: October 2015. …
In the sweltering summer of 1966, I have a kitten who will not cooperate under the Arizona sun that glares at me from its cloudless …
I am sitting on my meditation cushion, cross-legged and with eyes closed, warmed by the afternoon sun shining through the glass patio door in front …
My internship duties in the Fine and Decorative Arts Department of the British National Army Museum included organizing and documenting collections of photographs and rearranging …
It was late at night, and the dog was barking—that is, until she suddenly voiced a squeal that made it sound like she’d been stabbed …
The prison is like a Victorian asylum, and carefully arranged. The grounds are tastefully laid out, each tree with its own hillock of greeenery and …
June 1999 Bzz…Bzz…Bzz… My alarm sounds off, 2:00 a.m. A rude but expected awakening. Rolling onto my side, out of bed, I slump upright. From …
I can’t sleep. Deep breath in. Boredom has hit me like a speck of bird poop that I can’t shake off. I’m doing that thing …
You’ve seen water towers, right? Those huge, tall jugs of water along the roadside. They’re usually a mess—washed out paint and rust, covered by graffiti, …
Like all Filipinos, at the age of puberty, I became obsessed with penis size. I used to be very guarded about my bare body. What …
From downstairs I hear you playfully yell “panties!” with the tantrum-bound toddler who is disemboweling my underwear drawer. By the shape of the laugh in …
I didn’t always know I was a woman. That’s one of the myths – that every trans person knows it from Day One. I guess …
It’s a perfect day for a cigarette. When I smoke I prefer a menthol cigarette, or a “Minty Fresh,” as a friend of a friend …
I have no hair atop my head but if I did it would be like yours and I’d wash it brush it out and take …
Soft as buckskin and long as a train’s whistle, mourning dove calls drift down the summer afternoon, signaling the coming evening coolness. I listen hard …
The rain cut me a river wide enough to savour my numbered gardens— each with their own cloud. And in each I bred a different …
I was born an old soul they say, a quiet spectator mulling over muddled thoughts, about what I don’t know, perhaps a previous lifetime. I …
I’ve probably been inside more than 500 tunnels, caves, souterrains, or underground passages in my entire life. My first home was a kind of cave, …
The poet Charles Bukowski said “I don’t know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I …
I only ever wrote to be close to you. You didn’t exist. I knew that. But it didn’t matter when I could create words that …
The letter I wrote Lilly first thing after I found out talks to her in the present tense, like she still exists, because she does …
1 My grandfather lived next to two wheat farmers. I secretly wished my grandfather was a wheat farmer. I would bicycle along the edge of …
Into the infinite void where spaciousness calls out with a silent vibrating hum. Vibrant electricity gets shocked and magnetized by polar extremes to …
It occurred to me the other day that I don’t know your name even though you wear a name tag. I never even bothered to …
I was five years old when I first kissed a girl. Her name was Juliana and it happened during my kindergarten recess, on the sand …
The first time I tried to ride a two wheel bike, I remember my dad running alongside my six-year-old self as I swerved down the …
