August 22, 2016 | Interview, Nonfiction
An Interview With Christopher Boucher
Adam Novy
Christopher Boucher’s new novel, Golden Delicious (Melville House), is a kind of referendum on all we presently hold dear in fiction. Its emotional hold on the reader is very strong, but its avant-garde methods critique those special effects by explaining what they’re doing to your feelings while they do it, which somehow only makes the book more sad.
August 19, 2016 | Poetry
Three Poems
Sayuri Ayers
Under haze of junior-prom fog machines,
my cells pulsed with
non-senescence
August 18, 2016 | Poetry
The City of Subdued Excitement Endures Mercury in Retrograde
Kat Finch
Your hand had never fully formed, a shadow made of lint & oil. Decades pass, divination is still predicated on how long a candle lasts, how long tea sits in a cup. Coffee? I never touch the stuff.
August 18, 2016 |
THE ADDERALL DIARIES
Sean Kilpatrick
Acting isn’t enough anymore. They should have to hurt themselves.
Formerly Dante's
Kate Jayroe
Mama Vincenzo’s Ristorante Italiano is located in hell
On Failing: Rocky Versus Rambo
Carmen Schober
I have a thing for droopy-eyed men.
Pin the Tail on the Predator
Stevie Edwards
here were girls who sank/ a thousand leagues beneath his hips/ and never bobbed back for air. I came ashore/ in a body of my own, crooked gate/ and piano fingers
Hugs, Handshakes, Goodbyes
Ashton Politanoff
Bill and Mary were leaving because Mary felt old, when a woman’s hand fell on his shoulder.
Cloudburst
Jaya Wagle
I won’t apologize for trying to forget the days I spent with you, riding pillion on your Honda, inhaling Bombay’s foggy polluted streets, sitting on rickety wooden benches of hole-in-the-wall Indo-Chinese joints, slurping Szechwan noodles and sipping Tom Yum soup, strolling on Juhu’s wet sandy beaches, letting the ocean wash our feet.
Solicitations
Benjamin Woodard
Two weeks after the scientist’s freak exposure, a man in black arrived at his front step. It was the weekend, and the man in black brought with him a gift: a jumble of neon material he removed from
An Interview with Amie Barrodale
Michael Deagler
The goal of short fiction is up for debate, but it seems to me that, if a story has a single job, it is to subvert the expectations of the reader.
B(Earth)day
Matthew Schmidt
I’m shoving fat candles into dirt,
blowtorching the wicks and tooting
horns.
I couldn’t render enough tallow
to properly honor over 4 billion years,
sorry,
you have so many hills.
Wow and Flutter #4: Be Thankful for What You Got
Tyler Koshakow
I make him coffee, I make hot chocolate for his kids, and sometimes I buy his weed.
Dunn and Hooper Standing in Dunn’s Yard
Brandon Barrett
The cousin had called my thesis advisor and said something like, “Hey, film professor cousin, can you do this film for us?” and my thesis advisor was like, “Hey, no. But I know a guy who is still unemployed four months after graduation and is about to get evicted.”
To the Loch Ness
Cait Weiss
Or more specifically its monster, long tail whisper in our swimming pool: in a valley girl’s mind.
Morning Rituals
Todd Osborne
He started as a single Clay Aiken, the one we all knew with the smiling face and aw-shucks demeanor
Lone Horse Running
E.G. Cunningham
If this were paint it’d be asymptotic, red.
Long Live the King
Megan Kirby
A girl on my train is watching Kylie Jenner’s snapchat. I lean in and watch over her shoulder. I can't hear, but it doesn't really matter.




