Issue 12
Latest Reviews
Featured Interview
Newest Essay

Grow On

By Nicole Brodsky

The first day, Benjamin’s ponytail embarrassed her. Two days later, she put it in her mouth. She cried the first time they had sex. He said, “I can’t wait to tell you I love you.”

read more

Errand

By Michael J. Coene

Ireached up to touch my face. I had just finished peeing. It occurred to me that I hadn’t washed my hands. Now my pee was in my beard. I checked my reflection. I couldn’t see my pee in the beard of my reflection.

read more

How Much Tongue When Kissing?

By Kara Vernor

Sometimes life gives you a sign that you are ready for your next adventure. For me that sign was my period, which I got for the first time during Mrs. Keever’s eighth grade biology.

read more

San Francisco – D.C.

By Jennifer Lee

The woman had flown in many planes before and knew that most people conflated travel with adventure, movement with insight. The flutter in her chest was just the engine’s vibration, she told herself.

read more

Mayday and Rags

By Venegas James

Muralists begin by drawing on the body. She drew muscles on her arms. She drew birds across the blue sky of bruises appearing on her skin. Her bones became the balance beams her blood learned to dance on.

read more

The Most Wonderful Piece of Toast

By Stephanie Mataya

Heidi was growing increasingly selfish and Gary was running out of energy. It seemed to start innocently enough; she made a logical argument when she said that grocery stores were less busy in the evenings.

read more

Come

By Bhaskar Chakraborty
Translated by Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee

Outside, fitful moonlight

Our dream-train has halted at our courtyard –

Come, pull out from beneath the bed

read more

On Love and Language

By Jennifer Marcus

Julia Kristeva. Beautiful sounds. Not a sound in the name I don’t love. I remember falling in love with the long O sound. Falling in love with Gertrude Stein: “Milk. A cold nose makes an excuse.”

read more

[ M O R P H I A ]

By Gabrielle Lessans

1.

Dawn said how can we talk about gender without talking about race? You think how can we talk about earth where our air is easy.

read more

Sobriety Tomorrow

By Eli Sahm

I can’t wait to smile hummus

organic, ooze carrot-like composure

and be OK with time. I’ll sketch

pictures of my future kids, intuit

read more

Wrack

By Jonathan Louis Duckworth

she prepares her face

to be perfect for death

rouge, a dash of mercury on her
cheek

a golden ring for each finger

read more

The Light Thieves

By Jonathan Louis Duckworth

Languedoc, France

One day the mayor of St-Siffret

orders every third lamppost snuffed:

bulbs removed, radiance plucked.

read more

Birthday

By Joel Tomfohr

Jeremy and Tony materialized out of the darkness of night with someone new named Jim. In the strange half-light the man reminded the boy of Grandpa Lenz.

read more

The Last

The Last was created by multi media, principally chalk, acrylic, watercolour pencil, and photography.

read more

Night Places

By Marina Tsvetaeva
Translated by Mary Jane White

The darkest of nights’
Places: a bridge. –Lips to lips!
Really should we be lugging
Our shared cross to these nasty places,

read more

A Girlfriend

By Marina Tsvetaeva
Translated by Mary Jane White

“I’m not leaving!—This isn’t the end!” And she clings and clings . . .

But in her breast—the swell

Of looming waters,

read more

A Modest Reputation

By Nick Roth

The first comment Geoffrey received was, “You misspelled alot of words and your spellchecker didn’t pick them up because they are the correct spellings of other words.”

read more

Headless World (Excerpt from a Novel-in-Progress)

By Ascher/Straus

Tammy’s sharing Junior’s broiled scrod and mashed potatoes and eating most of it because he’s having trouble swallowing. They’re watching tv together and she’s chattering happily, asking him questions that he can’t answer.

read more

A

By Johnny Ray Huston

“Infinity room.” That’s what I texted to A the first time I saw his pic.

“Lol my bathroom,” he texted back.

In the photo, he was wearing a hat that said TROPHY BOY, and a tank top pulled up to show off his chest and nipples, the curve of his hips, and a trace of his ass. Behind him, a mirror reflection of cream walls and floor tunneled into blackness, frame within frame.

read more

Bind yourself to us with your impossible voice, your voice! sole soother of this vile despair.

—Arthur Rimbaud, “Phrases

Pin It on Pinterest