The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
“the sky no more cerulean blue – soused in black ink, with it its moon and stars too. It is forever pit dark.” – excerpt from poem “that slow DRAGGED END.” by Devayani Anvekar #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“It is this exact reasoning, and its endpoint, that caused Giles to flee the city for this lonely meadow. Escape other people while there is still time.” – excerpt from Other People by Marco Etheridge #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
Micro Poetry by Mykyta Ryzhykh #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“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
Creative Non-Fiction Micros by Kevin Browne #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“the recurring colonnades /
offered the illusion / of progress, vital calamity / passed into oblivion…” excerpt from On the Plaza by Clay Waters. #MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
Micro Poetry by David Capps #MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
https://themetaworker.com/2024/01/29/micro-poetry-by-david-capps/
“Alone, he paces from room to room,/each room a cabinet of memories,/a diorama of another life.” – excerpt from The Inhabitant of the Tower by Taliesin Gore, featuring art by Cerid Jones #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“The egg of flesh was placed on the table where my son and I were breakfasting. It was the shape of an ostrich egg, and slightly larger than one, too. Its ‘shell’ would bend to the touch, but it had skin like that of a human.” – excerpt from A Living Stone by Jason Ruiter #MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
“It’s Not You, It’s Us” and “The Procedure” – Micro Poetry by Sam Alec #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“It is raining in Boston. / My friend is in an ambulance on those wet roads” #MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
“my swift nights powered by / Starbucks are behind me.”
#MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
“I stand at the corner hailing autorickshaws. Many are ferrying schoolchildren, plastic sacks full of produce, five-litre gas cylinders, or the drivers’ wives holding stacked egg-trays bound for grocers.”
#TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
Three Microfictions by Corey Bryan @pip_prompts #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“The river of silence passes through the large classroom trough, its charcoal sides soft and cool to the touch.”
#TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
the night has not stolen the taste and shape of my grass-drowned flesh. after all, your croaks already drink the air from my lungs until …
Up here, the intervals of thundering wavesat dawn signal churning, pebble-rivensculpting by water’s paws: crucible likea cleanse. Low clouds, contesting gravity,fabricate braids of gray sleeves …
This dimly-lit café, there’s a voice then two, then three speaking like a detuned triangle with so much impatience. Winter, dense and black, crams itself …
everyday I am born like this – nothing ever happens for the first time I collect my shattered promises and get back home to my …
