September 7, 2017 | Poetry
After You Texted
Janet Frishberg
and a vague behind-the-eyes tired from reading about destruction until after midnight
September 6, 2017 | Fiction
Mail From The Person You Ate
Jennifer Fliss
At first Margaret went around whispering about the rape. The rape? Her rape? Did she own it? Did she have to keep it? Did she share it?
September 5, 2017 | Fiction
Four Excerpts from Temporal
Troy James Weaver
Don’t know whether I was really desperate for weed or just plain curious about that dude, Duffy, but for whatever reason, I found myself back at his trailer, on the couch, watching TV and smoking his shit.
September 4, 2017 | Nonfiction
260 Saturdays
Jody Kennedy
We wiped down, scraped, rearranged, shook out, swept, mopped, vacuumed, stripped, waxed, sealed.
Leisure
Julie Hrudova
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
Julie Hrudova works and lives in
Just Fireflies
B.J. Best
Molly liked that the Museum of Light was honest. Inside every light is a seed of darkness, one interpretive sign began. It is light’s job to prevent that seed from blooming.
Interview with Matthew Neill Null
Michael Deagler
Southerners think that West Virginia is the north, and northerners think West Virginia is the south.
On Burning
Renée Branum
If you are flammable and have legs, you are never blocking a fire exit.
Hinterland Transmissions: Carnie Love
Steve Anwyll
It must've been the late nineties. I was collecting welfare at the time. I couldn't have been more then 17. Summer vacation was coming to an end. The high school I attended was close to my
A partial list of mitigating factors in play
Jacqueline Boucher
- you never wanted to be the kind of person who balked when people entered your home without taking off their shoes
Three Poems
John Allen Taylor
Today I kiss her knuckles & we lumber home like mammoths.
The Resurgence of Plain
Michael Kaplan
No one even realized Plain could make such a comeback. Years before, it tapered off in grocery stores. Chips. Donuts. Even Coca-Cola. All were taken over by ranch, chocolate, lime.
Seven Mournings
Alysia Sawchyn
It is not the anniversary of her death that wrecks me but a day some weeks before it. It is the anniversary of the day I sat on my porch, barefoot, polyester graduation trappings in hand, and thought to call her but then did not because I was too busy.
Three Poems
Jen Town
Lyrical lines of color dripping down: a chemical skyline.
A Heart and a Half
Gary Joshua Garrison
Out by the park, I say, I’ve got your blood in me, and you look at me funny, like you are waiting for this to be another mediocre joke, and it is, somehow, but I don’t know the punchline yet.
Love Story in the Form of a Taco
Daniel Paul
“Isn’t there something called ‘Pizza’?” I whispered to my girlfriend one night, awake from a dream; she kissed my forehead, her breath heavy with the sweet smell of cilantro, and sent me back to sleep.
Performance After the End of the World
Talin Tahajian
The only piece of advice I’ve got for anyone is to shout your precious name into the rain & wait for a response.
w h o k i l l
Elizabeth O’Brien
If this album were a place, it would be a penny candy store: high fructose and courting an overdose.
An Anatomy of Pipes
Hannah Doyle
I was birthed alongside a digested McMuffin evacuated from a parallel pipe—my mother’s last pre-labor meal. She opted for a natural birth, taking only an aspirin, never uttering a complaint.
Lady Macbeth / Little Hours / Ingrid Goes West
Sean Kilpatrick
H-E-double hockey sticks
Police Report
Sonya Gray Redi
When I told you I wanted to file a police report for our missing love, you turned to me with your best impression of a blank page.
Raft Dress, Refugee
Barbara Rockman
A garment can withstand swell if the body can withstand laceration
Victory Speech
Salvatore Difalco
I feel blessed. I thank God with a capital G for my success.
Holiday Hours
BJ Soloy
The president lands to a reception line & it’s all already campaigning again always. The president lands & I already took a shit this morning.
Three Poems
Frank Montesonti
In this piece, the sculptor will sculpt herself sculpting.




