Having little to his name when he died, the reading of Henry Fromm’s will went quickly. Nothing surprising or contentious. On paper he never did anything surprising or contentious. He […]
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Tag: death
“It was Slow” by Kaileen Campbell
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“What Do Birds Do When Bombs Go Off” by Shah Tazrian Ashrafi
When bombs rattle the insides of houses, cafes, churches, Twisting and turning their intestines, Hurling their insides out, Bleeding them dry, What do the birds do? Other than shooting out […]
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“Bodily” by Gale Acuff
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 still be lively, just somewhere […]
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“Forgotten Man” by Ann Christine Tabaka
Dust motes dance on sunlight streaming through a dingy window. Rusty mailbox, empty, always empty. Cadaverous cobwebs mocking back at him from a peeling wall. He sits alone in his […]
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“Death of Whydah Sibyl” by Ken Allan Dronsfield
Stand at ocean-side, exhale screams cut through dense air, her throat tightens releasing weird screeching caterwauls. The ice melts and Sibyl climbs the tower; in gown of white with gold lace; coat-less, […]
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“Ash Lee” by Robin Wyatt Dunn
Come with me, it won’t be far; we have all night, and the seasons with it, in your heart: I’m dying. I’ll tell you about the nearer part of it, […]
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“Exit” by Anupama Kadwad
I force myself to open the closed lids To catch a glimpse of my surroundings Try my utmost to overcome the lethargy Shake myself free of the stupor Tiredness which […]
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“He Stared Down the Barrel of a Gun and He Saw Me” by Stephanie Luka
I watched you slide swiftly into the fog encapsulating Eagle Junction railway station. Scraps of rust leaking with oil-stained dew flung into the past, and in the faint glinting of […]
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“The Plum Tree” by Ken Allan Dronsfield
How did the despair become fluid for clear, dry eyes to shed? Why did the burden on the heart allow the stress and cause the beat to finally stop […]
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“The Watcher” by Jenna Crosier
Every year, from the first I was assigned to the graveyard, I would watch the headstones from my place upon the highest pine tree. My job was to make sure […]
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“TRUTH #4: The Face Behind the Mirror” by Matthew Maichen
I only ever wrote to be close to you. You didn’t exist. I knew that. But it didn’t matter when I could create words that would conjure you. And someday, […]
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“Verb Tenses” by Meli Ewing
The letter I wrote Lilly first thing after I found out talks to her in the present tense, like she still exists, because she does still exist for me, or […]
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“Water” by Gabby Catalano
“He laid his head in my palms And I watched as he grew a garden of roses Across a dying field. He had the power to entrap me in flesh […]
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“This is not a Political Poem” by Addison Namnoum
Addison Namnoum and The Metaworker Editorial Staff would like to dedicate this poem to the victims of the Orlando shooting, and to their friends, families, and lovers. This is a […]
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