Poetry, Volume IX
Refrigerator Door
Dancer, Rose Horell and I can’t stop thinking about how I’ve gotten so used to doing everything alone. so when I reached into the fridge for a dozen eggs for the…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXThe Planets Move Without My Consent
Poppies and WD-40, Chloe Moulin Morning consists of showering the body, donning the clothing, assembling the self. I wrestle into a tee shirt, and oftentimes a collared shirt atop it, a…
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Fiction, Volume IXThe Churchyard Yew
Catacombes de Paris, Elle Griffiths Granny always told me that the yew is the tree of death, and that I should never go under it. In college I learned that…
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Poetry, Volume IXABC Haibun
Gas Station, Oscar Zenteno I was born in the room where my mother ate her first hamburger, the room where my father sat at her bedside, licking every crumb off …
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Fiction, Volume IXThe Day It Happened
This Ain’t Belle’s Rose, Adriana Barker There came a winter that was not a winter, but the winter—the winter for which all the other winters had been waiting. The temperatures dropped…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXEntropy & the Irrefutable Nonsense of Being
Immersed, Abigail Nasari “The people or countries that seem to have the highest happiness index seem to embrace the chaos of being human, meaning they don’t pretend that life is…
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Poetry, Volume IXThe Nature of Time
The Complexity of Detail, Olivia Offutt It rises And falls Like breath Between whispers It twists Turns upon itself forever always will it swallow itself moment gorging on moment A…
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Poetry, Volume IXcomplex / complexion / complexity
Opulent, Taharah Islam embodied stories pass me on the sidewalk & my head is a balloon / floating above / but I still cannot see through skulls to the thoughts &…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXLove Language
Precious, Rose Horell No one stays in Calcutta, India forever. Scan the headlines of the nearest copy of Calcutta Times or The Telegraph and you’ll almost certainly find an op-ed…
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Poetry, Volume IXThe Pufferfish Limerick
Demonology, Jack Hoye There once was a man from Nantucket Who ate a pufferfish straight from a bucket. He said with a grin As he wiped off his chin, “The tetrodotoxin…
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Poetry, Volume IXWild, Rough Blue
Haku, Anna Hiltner My sister and I grew up between golden hills that glared against the rough blue sky of Tahoe country. Mom and Dad sat us down in a…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXElise
Rose-Covered Glasses, Margaret Wright I know her like she’s mine. Little sister, little child, little rhyme. We float in the gray-between; one of my hands holds her as a sister…
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Poetry, Volume IXRaspberry Vapor
Fever Dream, Emily Lawson I met a woman early August,across her skin I felt tearful years.It was written on her stomach and thighs. A burning wish fired from her own tongue: …
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Poetry, Volume IXCorona and Therapy
Dusk in the City of Angels, AJ Favorito i step into a massage chair designated for patients one man is distant enough we stare into each other as plastic balls…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXSisters
Precious, Rose Horell TW: Child Abuse I. “Do you think I’d look good as a blonde?” I ask my sister Cassandria as we sit in parallel spa chairs at Grace’s Nail…
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Poetry, Volume IXwhile a professor pores over the enlightenment
Cotton Candy Woman, Kiara Florez funny, isn’t it that Eve bit into knowledge and all of my citations slither their way back to sons of Adam funny, isn’t it that…
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Fiction, Volume IXI’ll Keep Checking
The Unexpected, by Anastassiya Selezneva Data Transition 40233-22 Unpacking… World Jumper Yaniess, It has been over 30 local solar days since your last check in. I have not…
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Poetry, Volume IXThe First Philosopher
Dorothy, Ciera Land novel is new, but The Novel is not. Poesis. Poesie? Poetry! Glass shatters, I escape God. Forget the Book, I want to create, to produce something new–…
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Fiction, Volume IXThe Lady of the Butterflies
Flutter, Savanah Tebeau-Sherry The slow heat of summer was just beginning to roll in when the Lady arrived in Kittery. Our town was small so everyone, especially us kids, noticed when…
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Poetry, Volume IXNational Holiday and a Parade
Untitled, Robert McGrady परदादा in the veranda. White kurta, square glasses. Sitting in the giant of a rocking chair his father had graced before him. Every time we would return,…