Category: The Muse

Groundwater

| FROM THE MUSE | BY MARWA SAYED | MAY, 2013 | My limbs drag Along the surface Of this world. Thighs sheathed in gravity, Arms lolling with a dogged purpose. Something has drugged me And my mind is halting And I am falling, wilting. I ground myself. The sky looks different from here On […]

Bounty Train

| FROM THE MUSE | BY BENNETT VOGT | MAY, 2013 | The stage is bare and black except for four seats. They should be designed to mimic seats on a train as much as possible. The seats are paired and separated by a thin aisle. The audience must have a row through the middle […]

Untitled

| FROM THE MUSE | BY MNEMO RICE | MAY, 2013 | Welcome to the world of languid minds, sleeping, sleeping—waiting like the tiny things curled up under the Saharan sand. We ran ourselves around our heads until the broken twilight called us back to our separate hammocks. I closed my fingers over my belly […]

A Journal Entry Describing My Family

| FROM THE MUSE | BY AUDREY WHITE | MAY, 2013 | I am half a boy and half a bird. My single wing is not enough to let me fly. It just flaps listlessly at my side as I struggle to write with my clumsy right arm. I was left-handed. The Creator, or the […]

Belated

| FROM THE MUSE | BY SUSANNA FAAS-BUSH | MAY, 2013 | She shimmered into my life, and I, like the fool I still am, blamed her for flickering without thanking her for light. In her wake, I realized my oxygen was gone, left to orbit another moon. Shadowing and streaming through panting riverbeds, I […]

The Ceaseless Waltz

| FROM THE MUSE | BY GABY DIAZ-QUINONES | MAY, 2013 | Swaths of silk spin with the gentle push of his firm hand . . . 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3. . . The faint aroma of a white rose fades as bells chime in the distance . . . 1, 2, 3, […]

Enough

| FROM THE MUSE | BY MADELEINE JOUNG | MAY, 2013 | If someone asked her what her name was, she would think about it, appraising the asker, before giving an answer.  Then again, that was what people did.  Most of them had two names, one totally Korean and the other completely Japanese. She didn’t.  She […]

Susurrus

| FROM THE MUSE | BY MARWA SAYED | MAY, 2013 | I woke up at one o’clock in the morning To the sound of the sea rushing by. I’ll flow along the rivers and into the lakes; Slowly, slowly reclaim. Had I a time When the seas were solemn and the Horses free, then […]