July 29, 2024

Vera West: Plucked Release and Excerpt

Vera West: Plucked Release and Excerpt

Vera West, our amazing poetry barista, has recently released her novel in verse, Plucked. A lot of hard work and dedication went into bringing it to life, and Vera was kind enough to share a brief excerpt of it with us. There’s also an interview at the end to give you some insight into what inspired Plucked‘s creation. 8 I hated the city bus; the sticky floors, the lurking men staring from faded plastic  seats. It creeped me out, but it couldn’t be avoided. With my ride secured, the next complication to iron out was a parental signature on  Everleigh’s admission forms. I couldn’t transfer without it. The bus stopped at the Ninth Cat, my granny’s barbershop on the corner of a rundown street in my rundown town, but its faded red paint shone like…

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November 24, 2021

An Excerpt and News from Mbizo Chirasha

An Excerpt and News from Mbizo Chirasha

Editor’s Note: Mbizo Chirasha is The Fictional Café’s Poet-in-Residence. We have featured his work for two years now and are closing in on the end of his term. You may have noticed that we have featured less of his work this year, which, we are sad to say, is because Mbizo has been fleeing his home in Zimbabwe and trying to find asylum in another country. Due to his criticism of African politics and corruption in his writing, he has frequently been a target of violence from his government. We have partnered with a few organizations to help him find a safe place to live and write, but he continues to meet challenges. Mbizo has recently published a new book, which we announced earlier this year. Here is an excerpt from his book, called, “Along…

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October 27, 2021

“Bleb,” A Poetry Excerpt by Sanjeev Sethi

“Bleb,” A Poetry Excerpt by Sanjeev Sethi

Medic     As casual as strolling on a graveled pathway   in a close-by parkland, words cycle towards   me on my inner track where ideas lap dance  with a tumescent dash. The first draft is born.   This baby needs a battery of nurses and   other paraphernalia. I’m the doc on duty.   Summon the accoucheur for stillborns.       Memento Mori    Campestral locales furnish   the song and dance routine   with a context. Ill-lighted   rooms caution me of you.   When their consciousness   darkles, I am snug as a bug.   Why does sadness complect   my cheeriness? Is alertness   a curse?        Nonfiction    Google and other griefs  chase my working hours.  Nights are cut out for  graphology. In temple of  needs my pelage seeks   your petting. My god   it seems is huffy.      Fair Play    The…

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