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Showing results for May, 2019

May 31, 2019 | Poetry

a constellation of stars fall from the sky

Tatiana Dolgushina

the man who touches you also touches
the other women of the city, this special
man who you chose to be your first man
even after you’ve met so many men who
wanted to know you as a woman

May 31, 2019 | Fiction

Too Long, Too Late

Justin Mundhenk

When I wasn’t on the road, I ate lunch at the diner just to watch Cathy polish the cutlery. 

May 30, 2019 | Interview

All Narrators Are Unlikeable: Elizabeth Ellen Interviews Mary MIller

Elizabeth Ellen

Maybe ‘white trash American girl’ is a compliment over there?

May 30, 2019 |

The Diary of One Who Disappeared

Michael Mungiello

Like a punch. Like Margera. BAM.

The Brooklyn Academy of Music is smaller than the Met and cheaper than the Met ($28 versus $40). It forms a triangle between the Barclays Center and a huge Apple

May 30, 2019 | Fiction

In Preparation

Jake Shore

Well, at least we aren't just dead, she said.  

What?

At least we aren't dead, right?

Yeah. 

May 29, 2019 | Fiction

Cut the Cord!

Lindsey Godfrey Eccles

When our baby arrives I am feeling a funny mix of elation and terror – what have we done?

May 28, 2019 |

Phoebe Snow

William Hawkins

My mother crooned “Poetry Man” in the car between errands and have-to-be’s as in, “We have to be home by six,” or, “You have to be at piano rehearsal at three thirty.”

May 28, 2019 | Poetry

Influence

Edward Manzi

I will shake your hand now. Later maybe we will have drinks. 

May 27, 2019 | Fiction

If You Look Long Enough You’ll See It All

Kathryn McMahon

A woman at our airport gate is eating a box of powdered donut holes and not licking her lips. She is capable of licking her lips, I know this because only after she finishes exactly three donut holes

May 27, 2019 | Fiction

It Rained Laughter

Andrew Bertaina

Sometimes we’d see a slip of moon hung in velvety sky, and we’d find ourselves crying for no good reason, or maybe every reason that we could think of. 

May 26, 2019 |

Whiskey for my Men, Beer for my Hoopleheads: pt. 1

Kevin Mahler

Bullock & Allan, Garret & Twain, Star & Paisley, Swearengen & Brooks, Tolliver & Dunn

May 26, 2019 |

Whiskey for my Men, Beer for my Hoopleheads: An Introduction

Kevin Mahler

A Portrait Series Paralleling Characters in HBO’s Deadwood with Contemporaneous Pop Country Musician

May 26, 2019 |

One Page Stories for Children

Nelson Lloyd

May 25, 2019 |

My First CD: Now That's What I Call Music! (v.1)

Emily Costa

I was halfway to the Drew Barrymore/Gwen Stefani hybrid image of my dreams; a few more years, I thought, and I’ll work at the Coffee Beanery at the mall.

May 24, 2019 | Poetry

wardrobe

Ben Pelhan

every movie ever has big hard cocks. ass. tits. sorry, I meant porn. sometimes when I travel I listen to the radio. the songs make me think of you and I think of the shapes your mouth makes and I

May 24, 2019 | Poetry

Three Poems

Kathryn Merwin

One Night We Drove Through Yellowstone

I dreamt of a white bear last night,

like the ones in the rainforests

of Alaska. Landlocked, we dreamt

of whispering to them, shaking off

one

May 24, 2019 |

"Talkin' Bout Practice": Ray Allen

Alyssa Oursler

The man I love who does not love me back sends me someone else’s tweet. The only text is a hashtag: Notre Dame. The video hasn’t loaded. A week before, the Notre Dame women’s basketball team made it

May 23, 2019 | Interview

Dirtbags Can Write Books: Elizabeth Ellen Interviews Steve Anwyll

Elizabeth Ellen

If you were to sit down and watch an American beer commercial and then a Canadian one, they wouldn't be that different. Replace the eagle with a beaver. 

May 23, 2019 | Nonfiction

Before the Bell

Jasmin Aviva Sandelson

We know who has her period and who is still waiting. If a girl takes her backpack to the bathroom or sits pool-side in swim class, she has her period. So do the girls who—when they ask Can I go to the bathroom? and the teacher says, No—say But I really need to go.

May 23, 2019 | Fiction

Welfare, an excerpt 

Steve Anwyll

I only get twenty bucks that day. Trevor tells me to call him next week. He'll have some more work for me. But I never see him again. Or even hear his voice. I lose him number. Greaseback is never around. And then the phone gets cut off. I'm back to where I started.

May 23, 2019 | Fiction

The Things She Did

Lauren Davis

Smart girls don’t tempt the devil. I was a bullseye, a bloody Rorschach blot, walking into the prison flaunting my muleta.

May 22, 2019 | Interview

JULIET, MY MANIAC: ELIZABETH ELLEN INTERVIEWS JULIET ESCORIA (AGAIN!)

Elizabeth Ellen

Trent, and NIN, are way cooler and better. Also Trent is fucking hot.

May 22, 2019 | Poetry

Two Poems

Kendra Ferguson

MINIMUS OPUS

1997
I was hiding behind a chair
Cutting off all my hair
My father asked me
If I was a retard
I replied honestly
I didn’t know
Childhood is
A population of no’s
In a field of

May 21, 2019 |

boygenius 

Brittney Hubley

Open mic, meet open wound. 

May 21, 2019 | Poetry

Homesickness

Christina Yoseph

the child inside of me
has become comfortable
with the heat of the months
as they melt down
like hot wax then build one
on top of the other
into a mountain
in silence

has started to

May 20, 2019 | Poetry

Three poems

Kevin Chesser

King of the Road

naked as death
begging on the highway

I calibrate the instrument
of my breastplate to lead me
back to you

I never once saw a dog chase a bone
but I never knew a dog that

May 20, 2019 |

Help Me Languish Here

Matthew J. Brown

 

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 

 

 

"In the home that my grandparents have

May 19, 2019 |

True Stories, Ugly Drawings: Sunglasses

Michael Seymour Blake

May 18, 2019 |

My First Record: Foreigner 4

Eric Braun

I was aware, somehow, that people tended to get intense feelings about the bands they loved and that music had Mystery, capital M. But my family was not intense. We were American cheese on Wonder Bread.

May 17, 2019 | Poetry

Anyway, that was the saddest part

Sarah Bates

I often confuse the dead horses
for trees. I say things like termites

care about the weather, or dark stars
will always find their way to empty

rooms. Anyway, the dead horses are real,