I followed a man home last night.

by Jacob Shelton I followed a man home last night. I wasn’t secretive about it or anything. I didn’t crouch around corners, or hide in bushes when he looked over his shoulder. I couldn’t. I was wearing a six-foot tall bootleg Big Bird costume. The sunshine yellow of the feathers had faded, and I nowContinue reading “I followed a man home last night.”

Chicago is Weird

by Teresa McMahon Chicago is weirdoutside the librarya man offers me coffee nutsI am polite so I say no tonightwent on a datewith a guy wholooks like James Francowe bring up the B wordbingelet’s go a differentdate tells mehe found the slasher films I was in in college I panic he smiles here, a story:a little girl’s arm bruised fingerprints from the principal inContinue reading “Chicago is Weird”

Dear Empathetic Male Poet

by Leyna R. Dear Empathetic Male Poet, Thank you for taking the time to share my story!I have been searching forever for a way to tell people what happened to meand have them fucking listen,so imagine my gratefulness to find you,voice like the air raid preceding my attack,sound that people just cannot seem to ignore.YouContinue reading “Dear Empathetic Male Poet”

facts about tigers:

by L. R. Bird tigers mostly inhabit areas that are densely populated by humans—the truth is, the tigers were there first. watched habitat rot into the open grave of an unholier beast /walked into the center of the streetand felt a thousand gaping eyes / hungryfor an untamable show—see, no one ever asked the tigerswhere they cameContinue reading “facts about tigers:”

morning & i reconcile my hands again

by Raena Shirali But it was easy—to pictureyou cupping thatsmall phone sogently, waitingfor the buzz that meansI’ve reached back whereyou’ve reached inagain, waiting to feelyour gut bounce upthen down, plummetingto that depth we calla cavern, or love, orthe loss of air coming easyto lungs that don’task for it. Love, Iam asking for it. &it isContinue reading “morning & i reconcile my hands again”

Bad Flowers and Graveyard Dirt (for Patti Smith)

by Tanaka Mhishi Momma grew bad flowersoutta her butt cheekstak-a-tak rhythmrunning a train trackthough cotton panties. She found me in the street the way Albertine found herthe way Jean Genet found herthe whole bastard ancestry of rock star poets going back to God herself and now God is shucking oysters at the deli,watching sweat hiss down salt armsuntilContinue reading “Bad Flowers and Graveyard Dirt (for Patti Smith)”