November 3, 2017 | Poetry
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?
November 2, 2017 | Poetry
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.
October 31, 2017 | Fiction
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
[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
The Meadowlands
Alex Sniatkowski
You’ll wake up on Labor Day and argue with the people you’re carpooling with over when to leave.
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
Immortals
Tammy Mercure
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
(2014-present) Time in New
Hinterland Transmissions: Coming to America
Steve Anwyll
Sitting in the Montreal bus terminal I make a decision. To eat the last of my weed candies.
The Subtle Zeitgeist of Public Transport
Grayson Elorreaga
One summer morning, Lyle Condy was cycling down the steep, straight hill of Magdalene Road in the city of Cambridge. His bike had a bell in strict accordance with local ordinances regarding cycling.
Wow and Flutter #6: Shelley Coburn
Tyler Koshakow
1.
My father died on Christmas Eve, 1986. I was three years old. When my mother broke the news, I responded in a startling way. "Death is just a figure of speech," I told her. Of course, at age