Jeff P. Jones, Syed Ali Wasif" />
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Literature, PoetryDecember 3, 2013

New Orleans, 2005

Artwork by Syed Ali Wasif

Bull by Syed Ali Wasif

Once I milked my mother and sister

on the way to the bread and egg store.

While walking it was difficult.

The rain finally came.

 

The rain watched us walk. My mother

and sister milked me on the way home.

I squeezed the bread.

The eggs broke.

 

Once it started to rain my sister

the milk breaded the eggs and made

a store-bought cake. My mother cried.

Me too.

 

When my sister and I were eggs

and my mother walked to the store

it rained milk. Should’ve stayed (run)

home (away).

 

Once the way home was rained out

we returned, egging Mother on to do

one thing to that store.

Egg it.

 

Once my mother and sister started

to egg the store, it cried milk,

so we walked home and glared

at the bread.

 

My mother and sister and I walked

to the store where we bought milk

and bread and eggs. On the way home

it started to rain.

~ Jeff P. Jones

 

Jeff P. Jones has one chapbook of poems, ‘Stratus Opacus‘. His poetry has appeared in ‘Sliver of Stone‘, ‘Hawai’i Pacific Review‘, ‘Puerto del Sol‘, the ‘Riffing on Strings‘ anthology, and elsewhere. He teaches writing at the University of Idaho.

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One last love letter...

April 24, 2021

It has taken us some time and patience to come to this decision. TMS would not have seen the success that it did without our readers and the tireless team that ran the magazine for the better part of eight years.

But… all good things must come to an end, especially when we look at the ever-expanding art and literary landscape in Pakistan, the country of the magazine’s birth.

We are amazed and proud of what the next generation of creators are working with, the themes they are featuring, and their inclusivity in the diversity of voices they are publishing. When TMS began, this was the world we envisioned…

Though the magazine has closed and our submissions shuttered, this website will remain open for the foreseeable future as an archive of the great work we published and the astounding collection of diverse voices we were privileged to feature.

If, however, someone is interested in picking up the baton, please email Maryam Piracha, the editor, at maryamp@themissingslate.com.

Farewell, fam! It’s been quite a ride.

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