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Literature, PoetryApril 15, 2014

Night Life

Night Café by Luisa Kelle

Night Café by Luisa Kelle

Beside her, blond liquids glowed, bubbling songs

as soft as her sheets. She got lost in yawns,

so an umbrella grew through her guitar.

Each day is not like this: Her edges showed sharp

as diamonds one Tuesday before Wednesday dark

pulled her from rain and dropped her in a car.

She drove straight past the moon, dropping low notes

like exhaust. Green moon milk—cool—sweet—soft—broke

her g-string. Hearing the umbrella laugh,

she pulled down her tent, abandoned the park

for a town lost deep in her cluttered heart.

Sometimes she slept whole. Some nights she slept half.

~Mark J. Mitchell

 

Mark J. Mitchell studied writing at UC Santa Cruz under Raymond Carver, George Hitchcock and Barbara Hull. His work has appeared in various periodicals over the last thirty five years, and has been nominated for both Pushcart Prizes and The Best of the Net. A full length collection, ‘Lent 1999’, is coming soon from Leaf Garden Press. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the documentarian and filmmaker Joan Juster.

 

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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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