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Haunted Heart
The dust of us has settled
the bitter sting, just a pit
of emptiness now.
Your voice looms, warm in
the cockles of my heart, it
goes down warm, a shot of
bourbon on a lazy Sunday.
I couldn't be what he was to
you, the Colossus that faded
out with the dawn, with his new
love. You recite their names in
your dreams, his betrayal haunts
the bitter sting, just a pit
of emptiness now.
Your voice looms, warm in
the cockles of my heart, it
goes down warm, a shot of
bourbon on a lazy Sunday.
I couldn't be what he was to
you, the Colossus that faded
out with the dawn, with his new
love. You recite their names in
your dreams, his betrayal haunts
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Fiction
Synchronization
Melissa Chouinard-Jahant
Patrick Swayze dances a chassé across the screen.
(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life sounds louder in the theater speakers than the rest of…
The audience hoots and hollers.
(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life sounds louder in the theater speakers than the rest of…
The audience hoots and hollers.
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Other
the levelness of the game
Dustin Miller
You’ve seen the game, and likely played it.
Roll the golf ball up the short wooden incline. It comes back to you unless it drops…
first.
Roll the golf ball up the short wooden incline. It comes back to you unless it drops…
first.
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Screenplay
Broken Boys
Miles Grüne-Yanoff
INT. APARTMENT 1 – NIGHT
We open on a grey apartment, paint peeling off the walls in the corners. A radiator…
MAN 1 (60s) sits on the couch, slightly left of center, wearing a leather jacket and…
We open on a grey apartment, paint peeling off the walls in the corners. A radiator…
MAN 1 (60s) sits on the couch, slightly left of center, wearing a leather jacket and…
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Play
Jack-in-his-Kitchen
Daniel A. Rabuzzi
Setting: A broad kitchen under a low ceiling, flush with roseate light; bundles of…
The AUDITOR
Nosy knifey Jack pulls in a clabber of secrets.
The AUDITOR
Nosy knifey Jack pulls in a clabber of secrets.
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Poetry
What The Sky Could Not Keep
Ann Fulleros
There was a season
when everything I loved
left in flashes—
when everything I loved
left in flashes—
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The world in another tongue.
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Sharp laughter. Serious intent.
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Ideas, interrogations, and personal maps.
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Truth, braided with form and fire.
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Fragment
Pieces of a larger, unresolved thing.
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Plays
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From the archive
A recovered text from the first iExile body — returned to circulation, not as nostalgia, but because it still burns.
Returned to circulation
2009 — Quest
Recovered text
2012 — Symbolics
Recovered text
2014 — Of Else
Recovered text
From iExile Press
Bulă, or How We Invented Quantum
Jaia Papitz
A literary satire about laughter, bureaucracy, and the small cosmic errors that keep reality from sealing itself shut.