The Potion Of Immortality


By Alfredo Macapanas Jr.

One day, an old scientist announced his break through to his wife.

“My loving wife, I’ve found the secret of immortality.” He showed her the vial filled with liquid.

“What’s that?”

“The potion of anti-aging,” he said. “It’s like the fountain of youth. We’ll be young forever.”

“I prefer my current state,” said his wife.

“Don’t you want to live forever?”

“We’re not meant to live forever, you know that.”

“Then I’ll drink this alone.”

“Let’s take first our supper.”

The scientist agreed. His wife dropped something on their food. The scientist never got to drink the potion.


The Slow Rise of Foreign Bodies


By Chip Houser

A year after the explosion, the shell fragments pushing through Hobson’s skin are slow torture. At least they distract him from thinking about his future. He’ll take the itching, the future terrifies him. He can’t see, he can’t hear, and he can’t feel his body. But sometimes his mind fills with a warmth like sunlight and the itching stops. When that happens, Hobson screams at his fear. Screaming distracts him, just like itching. He screams because a year after the explosion is just his best guess. He has no idea how long it’s been, or how long it will be.

Chip Houser’s fiction has appeared in Every Day Fiction, Rosebud Magazine, Daily Science Fiction, New Myths, and elsewhere.

His Smile


By Dianne Moritz

My love has a smile
That could melt the sun.
His lips curl up,
Like Alice’s Cheshire,
Exposing teeth, perfect
In their imperfection.
Deep laugh lines score
His cheeks, dark eyes,
That spark with teasing.
He’s a happy guy
Think passersby,
Dazzled by his
Glittering charm.
My love has a smile
That could melt the sun,
Eclipse the stars,
Sear the hearts
Of a thousand women.
Yet, when he smiles
For me, I wonder …
What lies beneath?

Dianne Moritz’s poems have appeared in Earth’s Daughters, Long Island Quarterly and other journals, as well as online in Adelaide Literary, The Haiku Foundation and Haiku Universe.



By Goff James

Within the poisoned prison
Of my troubled mind
I lock myself away
Trying to forget
The fears of yesterday
Praying for tomorrow
That all will pass away
In a state of anxiety
Coping with today
Within the poisoned prison
Of my troubled mind
I lock myself away

Living in La La Land


By Dianne Moritz

Frank Lloyd Wright said:
Tip the world on edge and everything
Loose ends up in Los Angeles.
He didn’t consider the see-saw effect:
Precarious balance, sudden
Jar when things shift back.
You’d understand, after mind-numbing
Encounters on Long Island.
Surfer Joe, high on fiberglass,
Life in the curl; caregiver, Larry,
Living for poems in Mommy’s attic;
Alex, his teeth lost singing
Too close to a mic, rockstar fantasies
Floating in marijuana clouds.
Illusions choke on coke, booze,
Whatever’s your poison.
L.A. has no lock on locos or losers.
Dreams shatter, scatter, die,
While Mother Earth spins on …