by Reb Friou | Aug 21, 2025 | Non-Fiction
I used to eat Jenny’s fresh ground almond butter straight from the tub when she wasn’t home. Jenny was my boss. Last week on my front lawn, B. told me that last Halloween they were a Wright brother. But only one and they’re not sure which. They want to move to New...
by Farhan Nurdiansyah | Aug 21, 2025 | Non-Fiction
I. We named him Sean. Mom and dad had picked us up at an abandoned fire station north of town. That night, I simply couldn’t resist the clamoring and violences sparking our home: the mug mom flung hard and loud onto the floor, as it shattered into crescent-moon...
by Catherine Weiss | Aug 21, 2025 | Poetry
and at the Holiday Inn tennis courts, and the law office that used to be a Pizza Hut? What if we convened in the parking lot of our town’s dead mall at midnight? Pretended to be leaving the Cinemark like the others, slow procession to the suburb in...
by Nancy Byrne Iannucci | Aug 20, 2025 | Poetry
Tuesday, June 25th The boys will run naked when they get here like Lord of the Flies. Concrete streets are all they know. Clean air will flow up their noses here. Wildflowers & roses are growing in the garden. With their little city hands, they can till my Earth,...
by Jack Granath | Aug 20, 2025 | Poetry
So what if the night shakes out its loneliness like a woman airing blankets and you crouch in a pool of desklamp light with your pencil and your glass of wine, the day shooting through you in a rippling variety of sadnesses and anxieties and the cracklings of brief...
