Fiction and prose by established and emerging authors. Send your poetry or fiction to Chris Brunette at firstname.lastname@example.org to be considered for publication on LitNet.
Please note that work previously published in print or on any online media platform will not be considered for selection.
Drowning on airPoësie 2018-05-31
Read a poem by Heidi Henning.
"Everything is spiraling, feathery"
A funeral at StilbaaiNew writing 2018-05-22
"He feels the warmth of the old man’s arm around his shoulders, and then the pat on his back. 'I know. The world can be a terrible place. We won’t be able to change that. But, you are prepared for it – as much as anyone can be. You will be okay if you use what you have to make it better.'"
"She knows in advance to prepare herself. She doesn’t know the face of the person she is going to speak to. Anyway, they’re anonymous. This suits her personality."
"I spit out
my mother tongue"
New Microsoft Word documentPoësie 2018-04-09
"I don’t desire our time
to be another document"
funeral wishesPoësie 2018-04-03
honour the pride of my life
by joining in when they dance and sing"
"With you I stopped thinking
about Adam and Eve
and their fig leaves."
"Althea’s rapist moved back in with his wife of six years in early November."
Letter to a brother in rehabPoësie 2018-02-02
"I can only think of this.
That you can’t take photographs of
Prague, your skin reads like emptinessPoësie 2018-02-02
"The mysteries of my sorrows
are like a constellation beyond
Why I blog about writing and issues of mental healthPoësie 2018-01-31
"He made careful movements
with his hands. Played a cloud study of water vapour gospel with his guitar."
Images of the strong handsome faces of menPoësie 2018-01-31
"And I was left thinking that glasses
make a face look interesting.
Even handsome. Even intelligent."
The healing roomPoësie 2018-01-25
"Moses’ forty years in the wilderness
became my own. I am a machine. A new leaf. I know
how to restore my own soul."
"Barefoot in the sunny road of my dreams, I tell myself this./ Babies cry. All babies cry."
Swimming towards emptiness on a bright summer dayPoësie 2018-01-17
be on your tongue. It will
be your mother tongue
until a replacement comes along."
Song for the dumpedPoësie 2018-01-12
"I think of you sitting down or
washing the dishes. Eating
a simple meal, never understanding
how much I love you."
The exodusPoësie 2018-01-12
"He wonders what the right
language of love is for winter guests.
How to make peace with his wife."
For Prague, city of particles and atomsPoësie 2017-12-19
"The rainfall outside my window takes upon itself
a pensive transformation. An
eternity that is filled with hope."
Social cohesion at the diving board and winter studies of the RenaissancePoësie 2017-12-13
"A cold was all around the couch.
Winter for sure when he