by Adam Grabowski It was perfect. It was everything. It was a one night stand between genius and concussion. It was the final and best draft of an anticipated eulogy. It was the profound epoch of the personal ad renaissance. It was conceived in a half-dream and written down before it faded. It was theContinue reading “The Lost Poem”
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Oh Silly Skinless
by Laura Poholek my birthday is in 57 days and isn’t that remarkablei hope my mother sends me a book on taxidermybecause it’s always amazed me how something can seemalive or not alivedepending on how realisticthe glass eyes arelike wowI want this one:“The Complete Guide to Small Game Taxidermy:How to Work with Squirrels, Varmints, andContinue reading “Oh Silly Skinless”
He Thinks He Is a Sailor
by Kieran Collier our skin glows amber in the roomof the boy with hair that has remained untrimmedfor too many months and the speckled chinwith orange wisps like fireflies if fireflieshid in dark bushes while the children were playing. His bed is bigger than yours, like an oceanyou cannot understand the scope of becausenothing isContinue reading “He Thinks He Is a Sailor”
UNEARTHED, MOTHER
by Shannon Hozinec What woman doesn’t wear the name of her godsomewhere below her waistline, hidden in the abyss borne by the enveloping grin of her funerary skirts?What woman waits around for a man to name a thing instead of stitching the very grit of it into her tendonsand reveling in the rich vulgarity ofContinue reading “UNEARTHED, MOTHER”
Wild
by Mike Johnson From the porch you can see the encroaching wildnesscoming over the fence in our backyard.Some of the verdant wads are Virginia creeper, honeysuckle, blackberry,poison ivy, poison oak,some isno-freaking idea but may still break the fence boards with its heft.It’s beyond trimming back.I can hack at this thicket wall and try to tameContinue reading “Wild”
I don’t know what to call us
by Orion Centauri I find that I look bestunder dim dive bar lightingwith two plastic cupsof cheap red wineswimming through my intestinesand a rush of endorphinsmaking it hard to discernmy intoxication from my lust I’m texting everyoneto tell them that I love them In realityI onlytextedyou I have been readingover your answeragain and againfor theContinue reading “I don’t know what to call us”
recordings of myself, high on mushrooms, 2002
by Sean Patrick Mulroy The tape is jubilant at first, as the beginning of the night replaysLaura, who insisted that her name was Desdemonaand I, bite into crackers, cackling at the sound of them,between our teeth. After we use up the glitter glue,after we eat all the pizza and the barbecue potato chips—after I breakContinue reading “recordings of myself, high on mushrooms, 2002”
The Girl Who Couldn’t Levitate
by Kallie Falandays The girl who couldn’t levitate got a cold. She cursedthe microwave for giving it to her, because the T.V.told her that microwaves were bad and she cursedthe toothbrush for not having a wood tip and horsehair. She stayed in bed and watched Netflix videosand pretended like the titles were things that boyswereContinue reading “The Girl Who Couldn’t Levitate”
THINGS WE NEVER SAW COMING
by Zoe Dzunko You fall apartat twenty-two, twentyfive until nine, we watchnew clouds do exactlywhat the old clouds did—still we are arrestedby the sky’s vicissitude.Things we never do: learnto control the way we feel.There was that summerwhen I was fourteenand my neighborsmother had an affair—I should have seen itin the way she sangthat song justContinue reading “THINGS WE NEVER SAW COMING”
Clinging Hard in the Warbles
by Mike Krutel Parted, burning chorus lumps and all uncertainwaves—the center breaks, no dawn with just a littlebedding, down-collapse, the feathered pass-at-will I’mone. A black the sky can hold, can hammer,light surround what light is is a glitch that moves andall the figures—pilings. Finely spread and finelyfaltered. I am blood confused, consumed, am with, thewaterContinue reading “Clinging Hard in the Warbles”
