Latest Writing
POETRY
-
BIRTHDAY by Lauren Hilger
On a stone wall, no one around I stole my mom’s mink stole I stare the doe in the face self-reflection in a lap pool March, my month, cold I want this to be the last awful cake white on white of winter
-
Reprise by Kathleen Hellen
Reflex. Automatic. My son with that look when I slapped him. Something in the genes, the violence of pathways reenacting: biologies of caterwaul of bottle-fights of fists into the wall. I saw Mother with her twin colossals jug-drunk dancing jigs.
-
PERSISTENT DESIGN by Nate Pritts
Wasps keep circling the shutters, long stalks of grass dangling from thin back legs, and when they crawl between the slats into the small dark, they bring their greeny materials with them. There is nothing here you can’t leave.
FICTION
TRANSLATION
From the Archives
Join our mailing list
Receive new issues and featured work in your inbox.