Showing results for 2023
Three Poems
John B. Oldenborg
What’s your name? Like an oak
I want to carve a heart
into our washing machine.
LIKE BUTTERFLIES THAT HAVE BEEN TRAPPED IN THE HOOD OF A CAR
Jaime Barash
as all my lovers
fly out of my chest
My Brief, Disastrous Attempt at Polyamory
Audrey W.
We started as open, NOT poly. This was a very important distinction to us, despite not having a working definition of either types of relationships. It was, we both agreed, substantially less cringe
“A magpie for weird”: Jessie Gaynor on her debut novel The Glow
Anna Dorn
Definitely one poet holdover is just being a magpie for weird
UNDER PRESSURE
Willow Loveday Little
Mysterious beauty spot the farra on cheek.
Rita
Mike Day
By March of 2016, my cousin Josh and I were practically flat broke. We’d been having an incestuous and adulterous affair, one that elevated his title to “cuzband” (he hated that term). Four years
Duchess, 2003
Stephan Crown-Weber
There was a week when my grandma was gone, I had the whole place to myself, was drinking the regular Coca Cola classic and the half sized baby Coca Cola and brought the Abercrombie pictures out in the open on the second floor. I meditated.
Phantom Baby, Motherless Daughter
Emma Burger
Sometimes I think I won’t understand what it is that I’ve lost until I write a book about it.
American Made
Anthony Gedell
The great neon calamity of his own life exhausts him.
Nan Goldin, Depeche Mode, Academic Integrity & Moral Goodness: EE interviews Nazli Koca
Elizabeth Ellen
I’m interested in these conversations more than anything else, moments in which we care for and about each other in a world that says nothing’s more important than self-care after a productive day at work, where we’re constantly pit against each other, forced to compete with our peers to earn and preserve the right to exist.
Book Review of Nazlı Koca’s The Applicant
John Gu
She wanders a Sisyphean circuit around Berlin: to meetings with immigration lawyers, uninspiring parties, lame poetry readings.
Parking Lots
Seth Gannon
The currency of self-loathing is everything you’ve ever said.
Consume(d)
Lindsay Forbes Brown
One night I was so drunk, I couldn’t feel my face.
No More We
Sean Kilpatrick
her lips run right off her head
she wets the bed in stereo
Taste of Cherry
Joshua Vigil
Did you know emus have two sets of eyelids? One for blinking, one for dust.
I Wanted To Be The Dog
Nicole Sellew
Everything’s fuzzing in every direction, the flowers and the water and the stars, and the pizza is impossibly good.
No Such Thing As Florida
Franklin Schneider
Everything would be fine, sort of, if she could close this deal.
Ruth Madievsky on her "vibe-based" novel All-Night Pharmacy
Anna Dorn
Ruth Madievsky’s debut novel All-Night Pharmacy has everything I want from a book: a toxic sister relationship, countless nights at a seedy LA nightclub, and an unexpected sapphic romance. After her
Among the Visigoths
David Nutt
There is a strength of purpose, I suppose, a fortitude and integrity, in simply admitting yourself to be a malevolent presence skulking the dingy alleyways of your own life.
Bitters and Soda with Lemon
Ellie Lynch
I was drinking bitters and soda with lemon, my new signature drink. It has .03% alcohol, less than a bottle of kombucha.
Imagine You Were So Angry
Kat Kitay
It would clog up the bag and you would throw the whole thing into the sea
Poems from Estranged
Elizabeth Ellen
There’s no amount of $$$ you could offer me
To shut my mouth
Train Station, Car Ride
Jake McCabe
He produces a handgun from under the seat, displays it, points it up toward the sunroof.
Pete Davidson: A Love Story
Barrie Miskin
I couldn't look in the mirror because I didn't recognize myself and I was terrified. Not a metaphor for becoming a new mom - I actually could not recognize myself because I had a brand new rare and severe psychiatric condition called depersonalization derealization disorder where recognizing yourself in the mirror is no longer an option.