September 2, 2024 | Poetry
Day In and Day Out
Max Stone
Fought so hard to be this self— this man in front of you. I’m free to wear pink and piss in the urinal.
September 1, 2024 | fucked up modern love essays
Natural Selection
Craig Foltz
8: Perhaps we’ve misheard. Perhaps our facility with language will lead to our downfall. Perhaps the public lauding of our own personas is parasitic and causes continuous displacement.
August 29, 2024 | Nonfiction
They Called Him a Monster
Jennifer Ostopovich
The idea that mental illness can be effectively managed with drugs is a relatively new one
August 28, 2024 | Fiction
Selections from Diary 2023 to 2024
Arthur Sillers
She said she was mad because I portrayed her as a vaguely inconvenient antagonist side character.
In the Service of Unknown Gods
Sam Redlark
[The names of certain parties have been changed. Other names were never known and are now lost in time.]
I get maudlin and nostalgic over the Christmas holidays, mostly for a past version of
Fear and Loathing at the United Center
Emma Burger
It was day three of the Democratic National Convention and day 19 of my short tenure as a Chicago resident. I had the day off work, and nothing to do but get on my Hunter S. Thompson shit and poke my nose around the old DNC to do some gonzo journalism.
Excerpt of The Valeries: pages one and two
Forrest Muelrath
You will never truly know Valerie, because you will never find my son, nor hopefully want to after his trite art project that is endangering us all is laid to rest by what follows.
Prozac Nation, Revisited
Francesca Spiegel
When I told one of my professors that in my lunch hour, I’d met with a writer named Elizabeth Wurtzel, the old man rolled his eyes:
“That book was such garbage. She tried to write a second book, and a third, but they flopped.”
Charles River
Joe Nasta
Imagine what happens inside gated communities behind closed doors, even in homes owned by a retired cop and special education teacher! I had nothing but my body and when I used it, I was called a devious animal.
American Pastimes
Aida Riddle
It is a widely known fact that Arledge created Monday Night Football in conjunction with the American Suicide Watch as a way to stymie a flood of Monday night suicides.
ALGTR
Bex Peyton
I hook up with a nineteen year old at my big age. Driving over, I tell myself: act doting, let him initiate everything, he’s topping anyways, he has the power, you could pass for being two years
INDEPENDENT HORROR FILM
Matthew Ciazza
The only clothing I wore was an adult diaper to which almost every older male crew member made a comment.
Excerpt from 'Body Count' (33 1/3)
Ben Apatoff
“When the president says your name in anger, the shit has hit the fan.”
—Ice-T
Bell Peppers
Beth Preece
How I angled myself. How I smoke inside. How things leave impressions.
Nerds Gummy Clusters in our Hierarchy of Needs
E.F. Flynn
“I used to buy cigarettes here,” I inform him. I give bite-sized details about myself like this.
DREAMS OF SOMETHING LESS AND THEN LONGER THAN YOUR LIFE
Christopher Zeischegg
I knew my assumption was flawed. Not all heterosexual fucking was violence.
Excerpt from The Princess of 72nd Street
Elaine Kraf
Sitting there and watching them I unexpectedly got the radiance. My body felt light as a flower, my breathing itself gave me great pleasure and my hair seemed to fly up and outward like wispy silk. I smiled and then laughed. Peter and Melita looked up and laughed also. Such musical sounds. Little bells.
The Monastery
Ara Hagopian
Like all bad people he is only bad for a millisecond at a time.
Mirror Ball
Jack Skelley
The darkness of the nightclub is an airborne aphrodisiac, a medium fixating through more or less “real” encounters among empaths of mind, emotion and body. At their center is the glitter globe,
She Owed Me a Favour, So...
Olive Parker
She kept pulling my hand towards her clit but I was too tired to actually fuck her so I busted onto her milky tits.
Three Poems
Emily Jace McLaughlin
The best thing for the future of a word like consent is to just stop talking about all of it.
Minor's Libido
Alexander Hackett
In 1902, he finally cut off his own penis with a small knife that he'd managed to smuggle into his cell.
A Loveless Man
Katie Rice
I hover above the toilet, my thighs rock hard as they hold my body in a seated position. The walls are covered in yellowing images of women from the 70s. Half-clothed, their nipples are big and
Men I Have Loved
Susan Segal
He hugged me, kissed the top of my head. “I was wrong,” he said. “Just be grateful I’m not drinking. I can’t do more right now.”




