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Showing results for January, 2024

January 31, 2024 | Fiction

Various Collisions: A biography of Sir Tom Jones, as found in Over the Top and Back: The Autobiography by Tom Jones

Jake Bartman


When I was born, they thought I was dead. My grandmother, who could neither read nor write, plunged me into a tub of cold water. I got started after that.

My father was a coal miner

January 30, 2024 | Nonfiction


Anna Terry

My sister is more of a person than I am. She works at a bookshop and wears visually interesting outfits, ties up her blonde ringlets in a tall bun and ambles around our town in clogs. We hear her

January 29, 2024 | Fiction

Listening to George Jones

Travis Vick

A tired black horse lies down in a field, and doesn’t get up again.

January 28, 2024 | fucked up modern love essays


Dylan Bach

MSN Messenger was the absolute dive of the internet in 2002

January 27, 2024 | Interview

Chaos Questions with Ben Loory

Sheldon Lee Compton

I also have a white t-shirt I like a lot that says JOHN PRINE IS PRETTY GOOD, but I don't actually wear it because it comes down to my knees.

January 26, 2024 | Poetry


Katie Frank

If the Internet doesn't drain all the money soon I will kool myself )for real 

January 25, 2024 | Fiction


Pascalle Dugay

It wasn’t nice to call her eyes empty, Sondy supposed. Guileless, most people would say. Furtive, is probably what they’d call Sondy’s eyes.

January 24, 2024 |

A Review of By the Sea, or, How to Be An Artist and Female, I.e. How to be Unlikable, or, How to (Not) Pander 

Elizabeth Ellen

And now I am left wondering how The End of the Story might have been different, what more we might have found out, had ‘Vincent’ not been a presence in that flowered armchair, had Lydia not been conscious of him invoking rules: there shouldn’t be any intimate scenes.

January 23, 2024 |

2 Poems

Cole Henry Forster

I am mauled by the gladness of it all.

January 22, 2024 | Fiction

Deadhead Driver

Sheridan Wilbur

Your Uber arrives and now you remember you’re not wearing any underwear.

January 21, 2024 | fucked up modern love essays

Dispatch to Jane from My Subconscious

a a khaliq

I have a question for you. How did you bear it? That creeping loneliness, the way it whispers in the darkness. Sometimes, lying there at night after my own domestic and industrious day, I wonder how much longer I can bear it. Do you know what I mean?

January 19, 2024 | Nonfiction

Christmas in Palm Springs

Matthew Ciazza

I lie into the stone wall above the spa and flip open my copy of Less Than Zero to the corner I folded on 69. A passage on Christmas in Palm Springs.

January 18, 2024 | Fiction

The Pretenders

Michael Robert Liska

“Girls like porn too,” she said. “Don’t be sexist.”

January 17, 2024 | Fiction

My David Cronenberg Season

Adelaide Faith

I go into parties wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt that says Bonjour on the front and Au
Revoir on the back, eating candy cigarettes.

January 16, 2024 | Fiction

Dopamine Somersault Blackout

Ray Downs

That comment got 55 upvotes. I downvoted it. I don’t have friends anymore

January 15, 2024 | Poetry

Twenty-five Poems

Mike Topp

I found a wallet today that contained $200, some credit cards, and some family pictures—my family now.

January 14, 2024 | fucked up modern love essays

Last Fuck of the Year

Adam Berlin

I get in bed, move my mouth over her nipple.

“Do you mind if I moan?” she says.

January 12, 2024 | Nonfiction

Comfort Food: Not All Regulars Are Broken

Cat Powell-Hoffmann

The cooks told me jokes with no punchline and sang popular Chinese songs while I chucked grasshoppers in the garbage.

January 11, 2024 | Trip Reports

LSD-Take One

Adedapo Adeniyi

I tell her this is all I’m getting, because this is all I deserve.

January 8, 2024 | Fiction

Baby Birds

Miriam Gordis

Getting chemical poisoning together seemed romantic, the closest you could come to being entombed, Pompeii-style, in each other’s arms.

January 7, 2024 | fucked up modern love essays

Let's Date (So We Can Break Up)

Henryk Kessel

In terms of a break-up, gonorrhea is a god-send.

January 5, 2024 | Fiction

Take Me to Your Gravel World

Frances Schnepff

all these changes in my life were made without my consent

January 5, 2024 | Nonfiction

July 26, 2022

Danielle Chelosky

I wanted you to count on me—if not as a lover, then at least as an object for your using.

January 4, 2024 | Interview

The Art of a Boring Diary, The Point of a Memoir: An Interview With Alice Carrière

Andie Blaine

Normalcy has no moment to collapse because it is absent from the start.

January 3, 2024 | Poetry

2 Poems

Enya Fang

Blood dots my eyelids as the

pewter waves drag you under.

January 2, 2024 | Nonfiction

Six Vignettes

Ashley D. Escobar

Sometimes he’ll cum on my face, and I’ll have to hear about it in one of his poems.

January 1, 2024 | Poetry

3 Poems

Amelia K.

We only know how to give
ourselves to each other when
we're anyone other than ourselves