First Love – by CHRISTOPHER IACONO

First Love By Christopher Iacono   Don’t worry about the park, it’s still listening to you talk about your love standing in your dreams, clutching a bouquet of roses.   The park watches your glances, smiles, pencil sketches. It feels your steps across its green carpets, the scent of cut grass tickling your mind, chills…

Love. Life. Welcome to June.

  As we make the transition from spring into the long, hot days of summer, it’s a bittersweet change for some. In Texas, it means scorching temperatures (think: 110°F; or 43°C) with pools and stagnant lake water as our only respite. Being a Floridian, I’m not really a lake person. The entire process evades me!…

Coming Home / The Great Railway Station Robbery – by NICK KITTO

Coming Home?   We lie entwined, the silence Between us punctuates the Bardic tangle Our very joining Elemental, and now I Feel all of me Deep within, her Murmured moans as Moorland wind The warm enclosure Of her Unforgettable, burned In memories, suspended At synapse, who could Have known, that chance Meeting, a poet, catalyst…

Poetry from PAUL TRISTRAM

Looking Straight Down Her Nose, Always (She Blames The Very People She’s Being Mean To?)   There is an unnatural fury inside, hippopotamus size. Cold, murderous stares from a ridiculously unfair, judgemental mind. Her little black book is quite fat in size, actually and is full of victims/punch bags not lovers. Yes, that’s a husband…

Dulla Bhatti – by PRERNA BAKSHI

Dulla-Bhatti (First appeared in Pear Drop)   “Sundar Mundriye ho! Tera kaun vichaara ho! Dulla Bhatti walla ho!”   Catching me by surprise, sang my father, in Punjabi on the phone, when I called on Lohri – a harvest festival. Excited like a young boy whose Christmas came early, he sang the folk song that…

Disheartened.

You know what makes me sublimely happy? What keeps me going, excited and motivated as I run SLM? When I get an e-mail, submission or not, from someone saying they’re huge fans of Sick Lit Magazine. That we’ve inspired them, spurred creative thoughts and that we’re making an impact. Because when I came up with…

Rhyming Rues – by SRISHTI DUTTA CHOWDHURY

 Rhyming Rues -Srishti Dutta Chowdhury     trimmed claws across gran’s terracottaterrace sounds of a lonely conchshelledanklet, as a wayward windmill lands against notes of sonatamoonlit, while auburnish-yarned-fur steps across stackedkeysbrown, pleasing cinnamon-cochlea; i will rush back to the moonfield soon, cross whitefence-picketed to get my crookedsweater knitted neat-right. *** This year’s recipient of the CWIT Scholarship for Creative Writing at…

I’d Rather Capitulate to Satan – by MICHAEL MARROTTI

I woke up on a Saturday morning hungover, but with good intentions. My head was throbbing, so was my urine erection. I rolled over on my right side to the sexy, soft body laying next to me. I slipped it in with ease. She had a post evening moist vagina. I cupped her tit with…