November 10, 2017 | Poetry
Jacques’s Garden
Anna Kelley
And what is essential for me to believe is that / the plants themselves were changed by Joan, / that bathing with her in the light and fragrance
November 9, 2017 | Poetry
Four Poems
Brionne Janae
spirits in the trees / hush love hush love / go’on fly home
November 8, 2017 | Fiction
The Great Iowa State Fair Haiku Contest
Gary Britson
I am glad to report that the Great Iowa State Fair Haiku Contest was a roaring success.
November 7, 2017 |
Near to the Wild Heart of Life
Sean West
On this poorly planned excursion I had a bucket of coffee and exactly one CD – my brother’s copy of Death Cab’s then brand new Narrow Stairs.
Four Poems
Mitchell Glazier
It’s bronzy August and I need this to be all over. / Most of my poems are shaped like crows, / so what’s eating you?
Three Poems
Talia Flores
A man spills a red solo cup down my shirt like hands. Hands bury in my skin. The speakers bury in my skin. I have never felt farther from the sky, or from my own spit.
Halloween II
Elizabeth Ellen
I smile into the mirror. There is lipstick on my front teeth. I don’t rub it off.
Four Poems
Erin Taylor
every great sadness has occurred because someone / decided fate with their bare hands.
Gyrle
Jennifer Loeber
Welcome to Hobart Photo Stories, a one stop shop for photos that will excite the brain, the eye and the heart.
Jennifer Loeber's pictures will remind you of your painful teenage years and
The Meadowlands
Alex Sniatkowski
You’ll wake up on Labor Day and argue with the people you’re carpooling with over when to leave.
[my body is an american]
p.e. garcia
my body is an american / casket, shove the corpses / through my eyesockets til they spill / from my mouth
Four Poems
Kristin Bock
When my children walk by, it will be like looking into the sun. Your children will have to bow their heads. My children’s eyes will be the color of electric blue icebergs.
Hinterland Transmissions: The Piece Of Shit That Lives Inside Me
Steve Anwyll
Now here I am. The same fucking predicament all over. The universe testing to see what I'll do.
Five Poems
Parker Tettleton
I want to walk in where I walk in & not think about me or you or anyone else we know—I want my recycling to be perfect.
The Metal Years
Jessica Shoemaker
She didn’t spend her senior year serving soft serve and saving for a bus ticket to Los Angeles when she turned eighteen to end up riding a tandem bike around the park with some guy whose shorts were too short.
Three Poems
Diana Keren Lee
my angst is still young / and highly flammable / something interrupted / meant to be read out of order / one chord change to another
Liars
Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam
Hades was like the other men Evie had requested favors of; he asked Evie to explain herself before he believed that she wanted what she said she wanted.
Manhattan
Joe Johnson
Welcome to Hobart Photo Stories, a one stop shop for photos that will excite the brain, the eye and the heart.
—Tara Wray, photo editor
These pictures might have been
Bryan Furuness Interviews Michael Poore
Bryan Furuness
Introductions are stupid. Mostly they get in the way. Probably you have skipped ahead to read the actual interview. That's what I would have done by now. If you're still here, this is what you need
Three Poems
Perry Janes
You halt the flow of traffic in a crosswalk to retrieve a fallen penny, / cheer your good fortune, and whisper: landmine.
Hockey in movies that aren't about hockey
Joe Sacksteder
Love Story (1970, dir. Arthur Hiller)
It’s comical that the rich kid with a building at Harvard named after his family is a hockey bruiser while the baker’s daughter not good enough to marry