December 9, 2019 | Nonfiction
Leg Warmer
Jaya Wagle
The first time a boy accidently touches your leg you are fourteen—
December 6, 2019 | Poetry
TRYING NOT TO BE RAPED, TRYING NOT TO LISTEN TO WHAT MEN TELL ME
Joanna C. Valente
i don't know how to manage time
the same way i manage my
body
away from men
and their hands and their will and their need
to take me when i'm choosing eggs, when i'm walking
to the bus,
December 5, 2019 | Nonfiction
Sticky
Hope Henderson
I had anted up already: pics in the too-small bikini top he liked, back arched in his favorite Brazilian-cut bottoms. Did you just take these for me? he asked. By your mid-30s, romance is infinite regress. Or infinite repeat. Or just infinite, like Groundhog Day, or samsara. I don’t reuse sexts! I replied. This is romantic. We understand this is romantic. It is, in fact, romantic to take pictures just for him.
December 4, 2019 | Poetry
A Brief History of Motivations
Jenny Irish
The predominant inquisitor of women accused of witchcraft, it is theorized, was a sadist with acousticophilia: a fetishist aroused by the infliction of pain, humiliation and their associated
Blink-182
Corey Miller
As a 10-year-old boy I found ways to explore. Moisturizing with lotion helped.
We Fat Ourselves For Maggots
Lena Crown
One evening when I was fifteen, back in 2009, my ballet teacher arrived at the studio wearing a shit-eating grin. Jeff loved to gossip, and he spoke with a showy Southern twang that made the juice of every secret dribble down our fingers.
100 Ways to Propose to a Married Woman: An Excerpt from GITANES
Fawzy Zablah
I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t want to suffer. I love her. I love her very much.
Kinship With All Life
Stephen Thomas
When Robert was small, it seemed like he didn’t quite see people. It wasn’t that he disliked people; it was just that he was more interested in igniting, with matches, small patches of grass soaked in gasoline.
Enthusiasm
Steve Anwyll
I think about her. A faint yellow light from the street falls on the floor.
Owed to an Ex
Mark Koepke
The idea that relationships are verses in the song of a life, or that grace notes can be found in ruined loves, struck a chord of latent sentimentality.
Extract from 'Dead Parents'
Gabriel Smith
When the estate agent arrived I was asleep. I thought about not letting them in. They knocked on the door three times. But I knew that my brother would be pissed if I did not let them in. So I went downstairs and opened the door.
First Communion
Lauren Sarazen
Avez-vous trouvé tout ce que vous cherchez? the checker asks.
three poems
Yvonne Amey
The Years Dad Blamed the Breeze
Some nights I imagine Dad as the lift in a shoe or wing of a plane—
his wisdom packed with imaginary insight:
all shadows have eyes,he'd say, stoking the embers
Nine Lives
Kaely Horton
I murdered the cat on a Tuesday and by Wednesday morning I was back to work, saying nothing to anyone, scanning milk cartons and zucchinis and rolls of toilet paper.
Some Notes on Escape
Zach Jacobs
When I was about five, I prayed to God as I lay in bed. I prayed for the speed of a cheetah, just like the character I had seen in a cartoon on TV. He could run away from anything.
Dennison
Joseph Grantham
Something bad happened. I sat on the bed. Tammy was under the bed but I didn’t know that. And the mattress is held up by wooden slats but the slats weren’t cut long enough, so they barely hold up the mattress and if you shift your position on the bed, there is a good chance that the slats will move out of place in the frame and the mattress will fall through the frame. And that’s what happened. The bad thing.
Conversation Between the Girl and her Drugs
Aumaine Rose Gruich
“and where’s the melody
to remedy the melody, the remedy to remedy the remedy”
-Diane Seuss
Last ever moments of falling
asleep with you, last
ballooning mood & heartbeat
so I
Happy Accidents
Alex Russell
You find yourself crying on the phone to your manager, telling them you don’t know if you’re in an emotionally abusive relationship or not. That probably deserves certainty.
I Used to Watch Touched By An Angel with my Grandmother on CBS
Josh Sherman
When she died, she just wasn’t there. I had to ask about her. She wasn’t in the usual place.
Cunt, cunt, cunt: an interview with Laura Theobald and Mikaela Grantham
Elizabeth Ellen
I think they mean they just don't like a woman going around going "cunt cunt cunt."
I Think We're Alone Now
Sionnain Buckley
Across the vacant middle seat an old man is sleeping through all of this, chin to collarbone, neck bent at a right angle.
three poems
Samantha DeFlitch
Macy’s Closeout Sale
I am curious what newcomers think of my city,
but it is not really
The Census
Sam Price
And any of the people that had been counted correctly, including me, could move or die, making the incorrect count accurate once again, if only for a moment.