Category: News!
-
Poetry from Shaurya Pathania
Journey of a Morning I The flowers coming to life, like the sun marching to monarchy for hours, the flowerpots watered with the wet weaves of hair of housewives winnowed with a towel in the balconies. II A rare inhumanly absence of noise regardless of alive humans all around. People…
-
Poetry from Laurence Thompson
Kotor Even at midday, the solemn Balkan sun Licking the limestone crags bone-white Cannot blanch Kotor’s winding streets. Women in cream dresses dance between the alleys And walk along the waters, dark And patina by the day’s slow failing. In the evening, a viola calls us to dine …
-
Poetry from Damon Hubbs
Riding in Cars, Bruising with Love All day we’d shilly-shally in the sun Backroads upstate between rapture and melancholy You and your figs and the comings and goings of herbs Your reckless driving was legendary You’d love me on Wednesday but never on Thursday By Friday you’d burn the Hudson…
-
Poetry by Caitlin O’Halloran
Safe Travels At a rest stop off I-84, people shuffle in and out, as a halfhearted few remember to wipe their boots. Salt and melted snow form lines of footprints from the doors to the bathrooms, where people dispense bubblegum colored soap onto the palms of their hands and the…
-
Poetry by G. Lynn Brown
Wanderlust A tumbleweed balters across the prairies, bouncing this way and that, to and fro, its destiny out of its control, but found in the hands of the wayward wind… We have so much in common, The tumbleweed and I Bio: G. Lynn Brown is a published poet and prize-winning…
-
Poetry by Ze Manaois
First Steps of An Automaton The rigid automaton, enticed by music, breathes: Gears whirring, metal organs pumping oil. Its little body an organism of man-made intricacies. It creaks and jolts, motes of life suspended indefinitely. Gears whirring, metal organs pumping oil. Machines dream of bigger boxes. It creaks & jolts,…
-
Poetry by DM Davanti
When the Boss is Calling The only way to listen to Nebraska is when you find yourself tempting dawn on the Jersey Turnpike in the dead of night, alone and desperate and down to your last cigarette. Bio: Unsettled by the country quiet of Pennsylvania, Dezmond Davanti works through residual…
-
General Submissions are now open!
The time has arrived! Urban Pigs Press are now seeking submissions for novels. Send us something gritty, horrifying, surreal, darkly humorous, twisted, and real. Yes, we’re asking a lot but we know you’re out there. We’re especially interested in gritty realism, horror, cultists, the occult, dystopia and even more so…
-
Poetry from Jackie Carreira
I AM A RIVER I am a river, I come from the sea. I rage, I caress, in silver and white. I am a river, I dance in the sky. I breathe in the mountains and speak in the night. I am a river, I live in the fish. I…
-
Poetry by Tamiko Dooley
Directions we cannot be together. this I know. and yet, and yet when I close my eyes I feel your lips against mine your warm grip around my waist I breathe in the scent of your hair I am steering round and round that one roundabout in your hometown you described…
Urban Pigs Press 