WHEN THE DARKNESS by Michael H. Brownstein Everything is tumbling to an end, a rock fall detour, water cascades, a glint of silver wash and obsidian. Soon darkness will no longer prevail. […]
Dispatch #072
SF Creative Writing Institute
Dispatch #071
Blue Mask Seas by Stephen Mead (for my Friend, Tom Stephany, taken by Covid on World AIDS Day 2020) They are so easy to picture: that ridge for the nose a wave’s […]
Dispatch #070
Platinum City by Hongri Yuan Translated by: Manu Mangattu Ah! Of iridescent gems of time The heavenly road you paved light！ In a kingdom of stars, I found my home. In the […]
Dispatch #069
Covid Pariah by Mark Tulin I am a Covid pariah, an uncomfortable outcast, an undesirable, a black crow, wild and untamed, solemn in a strange and foreign land where people don’t care […]
Dispatch #068
Covid Camouflage by Angie Bell oh what an odd masquerade with eyes that wrinkle in smiles while the real smile is disguised and we dance six feet apart ever hesitant longing to […]
Dispatch #067
CHANGE by Marlene Waldock Yesterday I walked freely In grocery stores Through the malls Today I am masked Afraid to talk to others Staying six feet apart Uncertain about the […]
Dispatch #066
Pandemic, 2020 by Pat Hanahoe-Dosch She woke in rain, the grief of an entire city, water and wind in the darkness. She burned, but rain could not extinguish her, […]
Dispatch #065
Ryoko by Katy Van Sant Ryoko came to our house on a rainy day. Everyone liked the rain at that time because it made us feel cleaner. The virus was everywhere and […]
Dispatch #064
And the Pleiades, Midnight By: Alexandra Kostoulas Moon has set and Pleiades: middle night, the hour goes by, […]
Dispatch #063
Shelter Journal by Sara Shelton Mann it’s when your shoes are filled with ice you know you took the wrong turn falling backwards and holding your breath, learning the piano you sit […]
Dispatches from Quarantine 
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