Dadless by Elise Glassman
“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
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
“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
Micro Poetry by Mykyta Ryzhykh #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday #literarymagazine #writingcommunity
Three Microfictions by Corey Bryan @pip_prompts #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
Lock Howe grew up in rural Tennessee in a conservative, Baptist area. Raised atheist and liberal, Lock struggled with feelings of isolation and confusion, themes …
Sometimes I come out here to think—I’m tempted to say “about death,” but that isn’t socially acceptable, and not quite true. Not even death’s cousin, …
From Atlanta to New York City, I went tripping, delivering packages, on buses and trains, stopping—three days—in Cincinnati. There’s the arc. Greyhound issues you an …
The first cockroach appeared during a tour for prospective graduate students. Being a laser lab, we had turned the lights out and configured exhibitions of …
Cameron Morse is Senior Reviews editor at Harbor Review and the author of six collections of poetry. His first collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre …
That motherlode of Sun right thereliterally blasting me in the face with its gloryit’s so far away (1 au, to be exact), but all this …
When Emil was in Youth Brigade, his labor unit was relocated to a region called “Janesville Wisconsin.” The territory had already been processed by a …
I clutch Dad’s oak tree leg. He reads the congregation my pre-baptism testimony. Seems myheart rejects sin, especially finger-painting my bedroom during Sunday naptime. But …
August humidity in Coney Island makes the darkness much heavier,Candles dimly light the lock to match the skeleton key,As darkness provides anonymity to faces hiding …
It was the days where the night would not come, for the sun held the sky hostage just by a look. It was the tyrannical …
The winds switch faster thanThe clouds can circle Under avalanches of ink Saviours and Saints allBuried beneath Invisible tombstonesProphets gone, mixed with dionysian delusions Bound …
When my ear fell off I first thought of the client delegation sitting at the conference room, waiting for the meeting to begin in earnest. …
There used to be an edge where the world ended, where ships would tumult down cataracts into nothingness. There are places still, buffers and hallows …
Sure, no one ever said that people were getting their powers from the rain. Tommy guessed it had something to do with all those big …
The summer after my first year of college the KKK had a presence on Main Street in my hometown for a few hours. Don’t know …
There’s a man the silent world claims as Noah, standing at the cliff’s edge, looking down on us as we crawl across each other, his …
I don’t care if I’m dead as long as I’m still alive, in Heaven I mean though not Hell, I might be dead but I’ll …
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 …
You’d expect the power button to be a rare diamond fueling a holographic desktop, folders overflowing in bitcoin. Or that answers just appear, thoughts as …
Once upon a time, there were two big kingdoms and two small kingdoms. The two big kingdoms were called Khakia and Doogland. The two small …
Sometimes I like to reimagine religion and the stories I was told as a child, so that it fits the way I understand the world …
Madeline loves it And sits as Mother would. The priest is like her Father Dressed all in grey, Palms fluttering with Paper clowns, Legs and …
To be man means to reach toward being God. Or, if you prefer, man fundamentally is the desire to be God. Jean-Paul Sartre …