[tabby title="Poem"] Our conversations, Plain and simple like the lofty fascinations of a little child; The words themselves, A whirling Indian monsoon backed by a willing current, I suffer sun stroke and dire contusions, Dried brittle knees from a crisp...

[tabby title="Poem"] One of these 7 days, A poem will escape the margins of pen and wood Moon and sun And usher strangers into a new day, The 8th day! [tabby title="Poet Bio"]Josaya Muianga is a cool, relaxed lad who...