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• Poetry > Free Verse
  Tremors

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  That was the winter your body grew a new geometry— collarbones surfaced like flying fish. Or it was like standing by the ocean, watching the tide of your skin pull out. We saw the world as it was: reeling, hollow, and cylindrical. Like an empty stomach. We were peppered with prayers and...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Natalie Remembers

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  Auntie Camille thinks I don't remember malevolent plumes of smoke reflecting against the oily linoleum tiles every Monday night after Wheel of Fortune Her shaking, almost paralyzed fingers scrape against the windowsill and drag the chipping paint away as she struggles to grip the lock and re...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Victoria's Snowflakes

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  Snowflakes dance and drizzle and defrost Squirming with discomfort as they melt through Her somber, ebony hair and pass through Her scalp and into her mind, attaching To each of her thoughts with an icy grip. They develop their brains, one frosted thought At a time, as they form opinions and j...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Clouds, Rivers, and Minnie Mouse

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  I was that four-year- old boy smiling, thumb aimed at the sky like I was molding the atmosphere’s clouds with Minnie Mouse and my eyelashes, tangled as ever, winked at each other. Dimples singed into cheeks like the atmosphere-clay after I’d jammed my innocent thumbprint into it...
• Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
  Hands

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  Did he have hands? If he did, I could hardly see them. They appeared to be branches split into twigs. If I couldn’t find his hands, I couldn’t hand him the ticket. “Ticket?” “Yes,” I managed, my hand shakily passing the folded card through the carved opening in the sheet of ticket ...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Scrapbooking

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  The bickering of ladies collected like fenced-in, clipped geese clashes against the glossy finish of the coffee table— the handmade tea cups rattling like steam engines as the uneven table dips back and forth as a vessel dances across a sea of lies. Dents like bite marks punctuate...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Morning Routine

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  There’s a couple seconds when you rake your eyes like tired leaves framed against an early morning sunrise. You wave goodbye— this morning you whispered it, too— to starry wallpaper stretched like saran wrap across glitter- sprinkled puddles. You capture the sun�...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Miss Confidence

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  I am sick of myself, but the vomit pulsating through my cherry-stained veins will not budge. Cherries. I contemplate tasting the cherries plastered inside my canals—inner and outer and swimmer’s ear—and I crane my tongue backwards like a nurse’s depresser. Depresser. I must’v...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Pathway

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  She drifts down the river, her white gown dancing through the water. The angelic face that once smiled, now slumps gently against a resting crystal. Her outstretched palms brand the setting sun, which drapes over the glistening river. Watching the clouds surrender to Darkness' daggers,...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  The Sunflower

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  A sunflower on the ocean floor shimmers to the beat of Inconvenience. Rushing, rushing, desperate for maturity Until it reaches the surface, where it belongs. A sunflower in the sleet twinkles to the beat of Unique. Bold and beautiful, but springtime buries it in flora Until it reaches the su...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Hysterical

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  This word laughs, spraying Christmas ham and crunchy lipstick over the mahogany gloss of the table. Its eyes lull, grasping for oxygenhamlipstick molecules so that it can continue breathing. It sneezes into autumn leaves, snot like sap, and laughter erupts from Mount Vesuvius. Its voice...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Apsu Canal

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  Apsu Canal. The dips and dams sculpt his body Expanding at the waist and branching to form two legs for water to run down The wind-tagged rain descends He opens his gaping mouth swallowing the sweet droplets whole A smile creates a crooked path for the water as it...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Spectrum

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  Dive into? starfish swiping ocean water? below the lifeboat,? they only catch the sand and coral like nautical butterflies. Water damage— runny ink—? ripples in? to my dreams ? of gilded cacti? until they, one by one, ? capsize into the Mojave. Dilute starfish? and cacti,? opp...
• Fiction > Realistic Fiction
  Expectations and Abandonment

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  The ice that tickled the New York City sidewalks felt strangely warm against my bare feet—or perhaps my skin was just numb. It seemed that everything of mine was frozen—my feet, my heart, my mind, and my life. It had been this way since they threw the dusty, crumbling suitcase onto my neatly mad...
• Fiction > Realistic Fiction
  The Ansonia Girl

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT

  After a while, I got used it. I think the shrill wind’s kicking at my dusty, bloody ankles is the most painful part. I guess you could call it trading one set of parents in for another- the amorous couple in Cadmonic, then the old rickety woman on Lincoln Avenue, and now the newspaper salesman wit...
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Sedona

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Firefly

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Vibrant Motion

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Chairs

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Freeze

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Avery

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Shielded

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Malevolent

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Spring

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT
• Art /
  Photo > Photographs
  

  Crimson

  By Peter L., Stamford, CT