China Brown – Poetry

PictureChina Brown is a young beginning writer from Pennsylvania. She plans to major in English or Creative Writing in Brooklyn. She’s been writing poetry since the age of four, and admires the works of Charles Bukowski, Sylvia Plath, and Jack Kerouac. 


A skeleton’s spine
Hunches over the
Grey river
Flowing idle in
The doldrumsBones break
Under the pressure
Of the moonlight
Sonata plays in a
Cracked skull from
The swelling weight of
A vacant mind

Thoughts fall
Away like white flurries
When the
Wind walks west
Bound to dissolve
On wet concrete

They will
Float and
They will
Melt away
And you will
Be stuck cradling

Over a something
Full of nothing
While your head
Goes mad over static

Saturday Morning Market

Remember when you picked the juiciest and ripest peach just for me?
And we shared it through kisses of that Georgia summer.
Then the days became blank, white noise in my head,
As my heart sank to the bottom of my soul,
Drowned in the memories of what were.
How have you taken up so much of my life
And you’re not even here?
It’s hardest to fight them whenever it gets dark.
I wish on every star for you to come back.
Then I fall asleep, and there you are in my dreams,
Every day and every night,
For the days and the months,
Until it’s peach season again,
And I keep you alive with every bite


Each time she speaks
My ears become a trap
On every tone and syllable
Of her words.I hold them hostage,
But maybe I’m the one
Who is trapped,
Because they taunt me.
I tear them apart
And send them different directions
In my head
To dissect every possible meaning,
To shed light on my restless mind.

But they all end up in the same place
Until you speak again
Adding more pieces
To an endless puzzle.

Speak again darling,
It’s killing me.


2 a.m.
And all there is
Are the lights
And the pavement
They make the streets glow
Like there’s actually something
Waiting for you
But the lights are endless
And so are the roads
Walking them is pointless
You’ll end up in the same
Dark tunnel
That made you follow the lights
In the first place

Desiree Jung


Desirée Jung is a Canadian-Brazilian writer and translator. Her background is in film and literature. She has received her M. F. A in Creative Writing and her Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from the University of British Columbia, in Vancouver, Canada. She has published translations and poetry in Exile, The Dirty Goat, Modern Poetry in Translation, The Antagonish Review, The Haro, The Literary Yard, Black Bottom Review, Gravel Magazine, Tree House, Bricolage, Hamilton Stone Review, Ijagun Poetry Journal, Scapegoat Review, Storyacious, among others. She lives in Vancouver, Canada. 


He says goodbye
to a piece of himself.

In the sand, the sun heats his back
and undoes his son’s work,
desire of former times.

The man has ingrown skin,
wordless periwinkle. Slowly,
the ocean swell gives cadence
to his wife’s image, beside him.

It’s a brief encounter, polished
nails and oily asphalt,
distract her from his attention.

Affection on the sidewalk, hands touch accidently.

Sometimes he builds castles with his son
just to see when they come down.

He misses her proximity, despite the other one,
in her apartment.

The man doesn’t understand
the rhythm of the tide
but doesn’t ask either.

He wonders where the shadows
and the shapes of the sand castles end up
after the storm.