Icarus… by Arian Moharari



we were in the air for about seven
seconds before the cocky bastard
got sucked into the right engine, the
resulting fire blowing open the fuselage
and making even the sun jealous for a
moment. passengers were raining out
over a field in kansas; you can imagine
the screams, i’m sure, the prayers cast
up then down, twirling in the sky, and
yet i look over and see my girl, laughing
all the way down, the wind dragging a
floppy smile back and forth across her
face as we tumble, head over heels like
sacks of wet clay and i reach out my
hand, grasp hers and she glances at
me, giggling, grinning, and i swear,
before the ground split my sides, i
saw wings, all her own butterfly out
and lift her back into the blue.


Arian Moharari is a high school student and a poet in his free time. He enjoys frequenting spoken word recitals, in part for the poetry, but also for the free coffee. He’s been previously published in a handful of local literary magazines, and has high hopes of publishing a book of his writings in the near future. He spends most of his free time learning new languages, playing various string instruments, and sleeping on couches.

Copyright © 2013 by Arian Moharari





Manic Depression… by Kaleem Raja


Manic Depression

😦 Manic depression release me from your incarceration your confusion your profusion of emotions your lesions your motions your potions and lotions your medications and conciliations your cycles of dejections and elations your stranglehold of convulsions and revulsions and crucifixions and damnations I’m numb can’t think driven brink riven given passion repression manic depression 🙂


Kaleem Raja is poetry editor of The View From Here literary magazine and founder of reVerse View poetry group. Kaleem is the author of ‘Medication Nation’ and has had work published in various magazines including African American Review, Dionysian Press and Carcinogenic Poetry.

Copyright © 2012 by Kaleem Raja




Snow Beginning to Fall Outside… Changming Yuan


Snow Beginning to Fall Outside

While he tries to draw a mountain
With an ink-dripping brush
On a wide sheet of rice paper
It begins to snow outside
Paints the whole city with winter white
Dotting his work like a leopard, roaming
Looming along the borderline

Between the city and the season

His strokes getting blurry among falling flakes
All the trees become frozen, retreating to the horizon
Except a black bird still beating its wings
Against the mountain range in front of his eyes
Against the snowfall outside of his home


Changming Yuan, 6-time Pushcart nominee and author of Chansons of a Chinaman (2009) and Landscaping (2013), grew up in rural China, holds a PhD in English, and currently tutors in Vancouver, where he co-edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan and operates PP Press. Most recently interviewed by PANK, Changming has poetry appearing in Best Canadian Poetry (2009;12), BestNewPoemsOnline, Exquisite Corpse, London Magazine, Threepenny Review and 749 others across 28 countries.

Copyright © 2012 by Changming Yuan





Due Tomorrow? …by Alexander Dang


Due Tomorrow?

From the very start, we were doomed.
Star crossed lovers on a messy sheet of bad math and eraser streaks

We weren’t meant to last.

We ignored all the signs and we blacked out our expiration date

with a Sharpie and tried to keep going

Driving along the coastline,
Giving ourselves completely to the sea and surf
We kept thinking

“There is so much ocean. This could never possibly end.”

It was like
The relief of hitting the snooze button on the alarm
or like

Knowing there’s a paper due tomorrow but there’s so much more important things to do today

Like the careless teenagers we are
We roamed the streets on a Halloween when we knew classes

Would resume in a mere 3 hours

I think
We thought we could beat the timer.
As if the sands of time didn’t apply to us because

Look at all that beach left to discover.

I’m left holding ice on a hot day:
It feels great in my hand but it’s melting so quickly.

I can’t save every drop.

Rushing into the amusement park an hour before the gates shut
Because, c’mon, let’s face it

We can get to every ride before it closes!

There’s so much shoreline left.

We were the bad choices you make
Even though you were acutely aware

Of the consequences to come.

Look into my eyes,

We’ll face those outcomes together.

But like how Sunday has an impending presence looming over
This time bomb of a relationship was reaching its end
Monday was coming soon

And we’d ignite.

Our alarm told us that we were an hour late for work and we got promptly fired
The teacher wouldn’t accept our rough draft and we should expect an email to our parents

We fell asleep in class and got sick from all the candy and the roller coasters in such a small time.

My hand is holding a small puddle and I let it slip


Finally the road ended for us

And the beaches stopped at a jagged cliff

You, my love,

my August in a finite Summer

Let’s sleep a little earlier tonight.
We have class tomorrow.


Alexander Dang is an aspiring poet from Portland, Oregon. He has four things in common with Hamlet: Words, words, words, and an affinity for stabbing curtains. In August 2013, he and three others represented Oregon at the National Poetry Slam.

Copyright © 2012 by Alexander Dang