by Jeremiah Walton Poetry has set me down beside youPoetry has kicked me in the ballsPoetry showed me I just can’t give up on youPoetry pulled me out of depressionPoetry made me ejaculate prematurelyPoetry allows me to email dead people HELL I GET IDEAS FROM GOD DAMN DISNEY MOVIES but conversation, CONVERSATION IS POETRYHUMANS AREContinue reading “Poetry Kicked Me In The Balls”
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like a canker it came running
by Christine Tierney that was the spring she’d decided. a plan unraveled from inside her. she tricked all the mirrors. nicked them with kitchen knives. made parts of her pay. she came close to lopping. grabbed fistfuls of droopy hip and just squeezed. there was so much shoveled in that begged to come out. itContinue reading “like a canker it came running”
Winter 2014
Christine Tierney Jeremiah Walton Kevin Kuhlman A.T. Brunner Kyle Bonner Patrick Trotti MaryAnn Vega Russell Jaffe Amy Saul-Zerby Mark Cugini Michael Harper The Product Poet Mike Bushnell Manuel Arturo Abreu Patrick Hughes Rishad Haque Codi Suzanne Oliver Ross Robbins Sean Whitney Joschua Beres Caroline Kessler Valentina Salski Ryan Scott Fallon
It’s Not Exploitation if the Gist is Rueful
by RC Gray It’s late, I said, that’s why I’m writing you.But the room is empty,and you’ve never been in it anyway,which makes this feel selfish.Capitalizing on our bungled chances,the recent across-the-table glaresthat screamed, Jesus Christ,how can it still be youafter everything? And how we used to be—or rather, how I remember us.Idiot kids in the South,Continue reading “It’s Not Exploitation if the Gist is Rueful”
To Convince Myself You Were Gone
by Paige Cerulli I canceled your subscription to Writer’s Digestand when asked of the reason for the cancellation,told the woman with the overly patient voicethat words weren’t cutting it anymore. I stopped driving your car around the blockevery weekend to keep it turning over smoothly. I placedan ad in the paper and sold it to aContinue reading “To Convince Myself You Were Gone”
Meanwhile Downstairs
by Chelsea Hodson I hung my friend on the tree as a formof preservation, an ornamental way of lookingat her from below. I was in the mood for worshipI confessed everything, forgot to use my stage name.She knew the actual me, firing range old man playing methat record in secret. Maybe I meant to giveContinue reading “Meanwhile Downstairs”
the problem with believing in angels
by Andrew Hill the problem with believing inangels is that invariably you meet oneand she has Malibu Barbie’s tan withthe IQ of a plastic chair but youjust don’t care because one look andyou now believe in God and you may be screwed up in your headbecause you sat next to that oddball kid in seventhContinue reading “the problem with believing in angels”
YOUR PORCH
by Sara Khayat We sat on yourporch and lit theyears on fire. Burnedthem to the filter andthen to the ground. Far too reckless withthe fires that we startedbut you better believewe were burnt outor put out(of our misery). The years areashes storedsomewhere inthe hippocampusor the amygdalawaiting for you towant them or needthem. And then theContinue reading “YOUR PORCH”
Mondays’ band
by Mat Gould has just pulled up in a small mid-sized cara young couple, they might be hipstersshe is wearing rubber soled rain boots and carrying a plastic tool boxhe needs help with the monitors and speakers they leave to come back later she sings softly avant- garde of passing by and passing on andContinue reading “Mondays’ band”
Give Me At My Hand Of Course All the Time
by Dena Rash Guzman Give me perfect hope if you have perfect hope.Give me a book you wrote, if you wrote a book at all.Give me a tissue to wipe clean my grief or if you can’t,give me a cotton handkerchief for my mouth to ruin.Give me money for new lipstick, if you have money.Continue reading “Give Me At My Hand Of Course All the Time”