Two Poems
By Lora Nouk - Jan 15, 2018
Bugged sexual
External wetware
Sheet mask
Thinking about social inheritance:
Cockroaches produce 6 generations a year
the most interesting things my dad had to say about when he was in the navy (1958-1962)
By Megan Boyle - Jan 12, 2018
he inhaled and held it a moment, then shook his head like he had surrendered something and said ‘oh no, i don’t know why i’m crying, why do i do this.’ i said ‘it’s okay.’ he said ‘i don’t even know why’ and chuckled a little, crying less as he continued describing the stripes and chevrons.
Read More >$50 on Both?
By Simon Graham - Jan 10, 2018
“My rent is $350 a week and I earn $600. So I should be able to move to Hamburg by December. That’s where it all is now. Berlin is over.” I leave that party in an Uber to another. “I’m starting a two-week residency tomorrow at the warehouse. My statement of intent is ‘to discover how sculpture as a praxis can be an antidote to climate change.’” How many Ubers in one night is too many?
Read More >Poems from “Milk & Henny”
By Peter BD - Jan 8, 2018
crazy people give the best head cuz they crazy
Read More >
A Mess of Pork
By Harriette Simpson Arnow - Jan 3, 2018
She was not an old woman, but she made me feel young. I guess because I’d never had any trouble like she had. She wore a shawl overhead, and had a baby in her arms. The baby was nursing. When she saw me she pushed her breast out of sight.
“I killed a copper,” I said.
Two Works
By Ryūnosuke Akutagawa - Dec 27, 2017
I was chatting with a girl. Her left brow crinkled each time I became excited about what I was saying. —I wonder, how many left brows like hers exist in the world?
Read More >Eight Things I Hate About Me
By Mark Leidner - Dec 20, 2017
I hate it when I cockily kiss my biceps
in a dive bar, taunting a dock-worker
into arm-wrestling me, only to be
all the more humiliated when I lose.
Two Stories
By Tetman Callis - Dec 18, 2017
It wasn’t the stiff and desiccated bodies stacked standing behind the closed closet door and it wasn’t the rigor-mortified corpses hanging from the rafters by clotheslines and panty hose, engaging in the gentle sway and rotation characteristic of such bodies in such an array, that got to the cops.
Read More >How Can I Tell You?
By John O'Hara - Dec 15, 2017
A T-Bird and two Galaxies was very good for one day, especially as the T-Bird did not involve a trade-in. The woman who bought it, Mrs. Preston, had come in and asked for Mark McGranville and shown him a magazine ad. “Do you have one of these in red?” she said.
Read More >Last Will
By Rachel Sherman - Dec 13, 2017
21.) Please don’t leave my brain inside me. I don’t like the idea of being alone. Give it to science; find out if they can actually “see” what went wrong. Have them go at it with experiments. Check if there is a gene.
Read More >Squirrel Attacks Man With Nuts
By Sheila Heti - Dec 11, 2017
I told him I thought it was a bad idea, but he wasn’t listening, and instead he said, “I’ve got a riddle for you.” He said, “At the girls’ residence, taped onto a wall in the hallway before I left, was a headline from The Globe and Mail that said: Squirrel Attacks Man With Nuts. How many ways can this be interpreted?
Read More >SLAB III
By Big Bruiser Dope Boy - Dec 8, 2017
I wanted to sink my face into Aoudad’s haunches like one of those padded rings at the head of the massage tables in the training room, to lap at the winking center of their grainy meadow, to taste past him, polish the floor through his taint with my tongue, plumb for undiscovered metals in a hidden mine, be the hook in the cum-mottled wall on which his taxidermal trunk was mounted.
Read More >Three Stories
By Evan Lavender-Smith - Dec 6, 2017
Back before she had her own children, when she heard someone with children state or insinuate that people without children, people like her, couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to have children, and therefore—usually this would be the part that was insinuated—didn’t have access to the same amount of joy in life as did a person with children…
Read More >from “$50,000”
By Andrew Weatherhead - Dec 4, 2017
Words present us with little pictures of things
So how is it possible to mean anything you say
I feel like a circle: perfect in theory and impossible in reality
Read More >
From the Discarded Collection
By Jeff Jackson - Dec 1, 2017
A series of photographs are tacked to the walls of this abandoned apartment in the heart of the projects. It looks recently vacated, empty except for a blood-stained pillow. The floor is marked by a fresh ring of soot from a campfire but where you might expect to find discarded cans of food, there’s only a small pile of stones. Someone’s parted the dark curtains which reveal a view of the nearby polluted river. The pale sunlight drifts inside to frame these pictures of K.M.
Read More >Poems About Lambs
By Coco Fitterman - Nov 29, 2017
yes she is very cool yes she feels as soft as a baby lamb…
man everyone i’ve dated has been such a stupid disappointment…
we’re all gonna die so you can stick your greasy finger into as many dumb pies as you want…
She Had Wanted To Be Closer To The Ocean
By Ashton Politanoff - Nov 27, 2017
He could close his eyes but not his ears. First the downstairs neighbor, a mechanic. Then, the sudden barking of a dog next door. He was reminded of the busy street a block east of their bedroom window. Things far away seemed just below.
Read More >Three Poems
By Molly Brodak - Nov 25, 2017
How to Not Be a Perfectionist
People are vivid
and small
and don’t live
very long—
excerpt of WORK
By Bud Smith - Nov 21, 2017
On Friday, people sometimes get the fish sandwich. They’re either repentant Catholics or they are just ...
Read More >Three Poems
By G.G. Roland - Nov 17, 2017
dick-b
one of the algorithms helps me meet you
another helps me find more grape flavored candy
CHINA VIDEO DIARY
By Cristine Brache - Nov 15, 2017
it begins at 00:36:56
i have a second factory visit, with Mao xoxo
hopefully i can die with a conversation about the vacuum
in preparation for mass consumption
Three Prose Poems
By Christopher Kennedy - Nov 13, 2017
Sustainability
Nothing to eat except the same flora and fauna, brightly packaged, colorful, like a clown’s face, and you have to choose, read the ingredients, set the time. Outside, querulous birdsong. Diesels struggling up the hill beneath a colorless sky.
Read More >The Happiest
By Clancy Martin - Nov 10, 2017
Yellow Snake was my best girl at the Mona Lisa. She was not the first girl I picked. It was my third or fourth visit there.
Read More >Three Poems
By Michael Earl Craig - Nov 8, 2017
C O L O S S E U M
I am sitting in a café with my right hand up to my face.
My hand smells like fresh laundry.
I watch a muffin go by. A baby swats
with his fist, dumping a lemonade.