WELCOME TO OPUS LITERARY & ARTS MAGAZINE
WELCOME TO OPUS LITERARY & ARTS MAGAZINE

determine my age based on my isotopic decay, the half-lives in which i’ve contracted resulting in beta putrefaction, ah yes, you. my nucleic alpha  leaving me an isobar  where i pour undistilled ferments, the rims of my beakers,  mouths of rabid dogs howling for the return cosmic rays,  ones t

After “Cambridge” by Frank O’Hara It’s still snowing and the dim fluorescent light looks eerie flickering down the stone hallway with only orange life-jackets to illuminate.The hot spring gurgles, it is the sole heat on earth. I yawn, stretch out my sludge-colored tentacles, and draw shapes

THE FACES BEHIND THE MAGAZINE

By Claire Furjanic        I sit alone on the bench, running my fingers along my light denim jeans. They used to fit me back in 1967 shortly after I got married, but now even the tightest loop on my belt can’t prevent them from hanging loosely around my thinned waist. A familiar car […]

By Emma Gail Compton I am allergic to oranges, but I bought one a week ago. It was the only thing I bought on my stop at the grocery store; I had a coupon for navel oranges and time enough to walk to the grocers. It was only one quarter instead of two. I intended […]

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