The day was sullen, the sun cold, shaded gray behind the clouds, the air biting my skin. In front of me a tree, dead and gray, waiting for its spring revival. My friends, my coworkers, my brothers. It was
Category: Fall 2018
woke up sour on a thursday. i dreamt a fishbowl universe where mice cohabitate with monkeys except when the monkeys get hungry. this is not a metaphor. call it nature. darwin’s gift house. or maybe another weekday dream. did
A tangled heap of bones and hide cast into a ditch, this discarded infant bore only one blow before the end: flies are eager for that old blood, rooting into the already-softening flesh to succor and sustain their own
Our group is called Addicts Anonymous and none of us know to what it is that any of the others are addicted. We meet once a week in the basement of a library that people stopped going to on account
The last time, we have sex in his car. We drive out past the water tower on North Dearborn, take that left turn onto gravel. I bolt myself to the seat, ratchet my fingers around the headrest. One bare
Tampa sleeps beneath an interstate with a fifth of vodka in its roughed-up hand after another long night getting lit. In any case, you switch hornets with bats and realize with forgot, turns out it makes a huge difference.
“PAH-KOO-RAH! PAH-KOO-RAH!” Tom yelled at the red lights to change as we drove to my dance class. At nine years old I didn’t understand the sounds of Korean. When I was raving through the house, hyper, bored and anxious
The saline draining into my arm makes me even colder, my ring tightens around my finger as I fill up, a man named Mark is rushed in from the street, can hear the commotion while distracting a game on
Its slender handle a swan neck over the tub, like a low bird or amphibian that lives to peer, to lurk, to sleep. Its electric umbilicus rooted to the wall. As with a new infant, its head is oblong,
We read submissions on a rolling basis