Humanity has always had a story and it always will. Depending on our understanding of that story, individuals or humanity as a whole,...

Submit your latest poem, or your next one, to the Montreal International Poetry Prize! The 2022 competition is open for submissions. The...

I cut my finger, the sanguine smell Permeates the air like petrichor. The blood flows slow like caramel Delighting in its long encore. My...

Have you tasted the bitterness of tears of despair? Have you watched the sun sink through such pale, balmless air that your soul sought...

The peaks were barely seen that night—they hid Among a sea of aster-painted clouds. The skies were filled with stars that shone like...

I was a mere sixteen that Summer day We all piled in a beat-up car and drove To Woodstock, or someplace we had been told That a great...

Yes, art comes far more thrilling from forms that are averse to drilling, enamel, onyx, verse. To Hell with false constrictions! But to...

So long have historians traced the beginnings of man, so long have they found the traces of art alongside him. The story of art can also...

I lie awake at night and count the stars that cluster, cluttering the sky and mind with numbers vast and overwhelming. Mars portends...