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Showing results for 2020

I should have never left the Great Lakes / I hate this place photo
December 31, 2020 | Poetry

I should have never left the Great Lakes / I hate this place

Matt Mitchell

let us use the Fibonacci sequence to understand
why 10 coffins became boats atop the surface of Alum Creek on Christmas Eve

and why Mamaw spent all of 2015 saying bell-bottoms were coming

The Distance Between photo
December 31, 2020 | Nonfiction

The Distance Between

Jared Povanda

This boy has never been in love. He takes his phone to bed, a ghost or a third hand, he can’t say. Can anyone, anymore, the world being what it is? 

He yearns as the hours creep. Desperate to mimic

i want you to love me lyrics - Google Search photo
December 30, 2020 | Nonfiction

i want you to love me lyrics - Google Search

emilie kneifel

after fiona apple

i've waited many years— i didn’t know i was waiting— my myself waited til no one was looking, and it ran, and it ran and— 

all my selves run from me. when i look up they’re

Hug Your Mad photo
December 29, 2020 | Nonfiction

Hug Your Mad

Sarah Fawn Montgomery

Mama says mad freezes your face, so little girls with feelings be careful. Anger shows ugly over time, lines between your brows or pulling down the corners of your mouth. Girls should smile, say

Hockenheimring photo
December 28, 2020 | Nonfiction

Hockenheimring

Sam Farahmand

On Sunday morning, at eight central in middle Tennessee, I watch the Grand Prix. This season is the 70th anniversary of the FIA Formula One World Championship, which feels like enough of a reason to

Parking Lot Neon photo
December 27, 2020 | fucked up modern love essays

Parking Lot Neon

Ryan Norman

Maybe I’d hang out in the locker room and find someone who would treat me better. Maybe I’d go to Taco Bell and eat in the parking lot.

Meet 2020’s Most Nonessential Santas photo
December 25, 2020 | Fiction

Meet 2020’s Most Nonessential Santas

Tyler Barton and Erin Dorney

This is the Santa crushing it on Etsy.

This is the Santa denied unemployment.

This is the Santa whose Zoom background brought his therapist to tears.

This Santa doesn’t give a shit—he’s a

X-Mas in Orlando 2019 photo
December 25, 2020 | Nonfiction

X-Mas in Orlando 2019

Michael Wheaton

We’re spinning Vince Guaraldi’s soundtrack for A Charlie Brown Christmas in our den, a small extension the previous owner built by dry-walling in the original porch's 1959 concrete border. We erected

This Christmas, We Will Celebrate Around a Cube photo
December 24, 2020 | Fiction

This Christmas, We Will Celebrate Around a Cube

Rebecca van Laer

First, I visited my father’s house. After I returned home, my mother asked me to bring her there in the dark of night. We got on the highway, drove north, then took the second exit, but that was all I

My Daughter Has Never Heard of Home Alone or All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth  photo
December 24, 2020 | Poetry

My Daughter Has Never Heard of Home Alone or All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth 

Adam Hughes

 

She lives with her mom

two states away

and I wish this was all

I've failed to teach her. 

 

 

Acting photo
December 23, 2020 | Fiction

Acting

Danny Lang-Perez

I’m now constructing a mental pool for how long these two can keep up the corporate veneer before they go insane or at least pop Gene in the teeth or at least say Okay you’re done no more pineapple and then whisk away the tray of pineapple Mom and I have not stopped noshing and ogling and noshing...

Two Poems photo
December 23, 2020 | Poetry

Two Poems

Rosie Stockton

rsvp

for sacha

you’re a bound cloud
mist locked down    skipped
across the lake, I can tell

I woosh your eye’s pallet
missing calls      flatten
hunger      a slow drawl
boy  with

Luxury photo
December 22, 2020 | Poetry

Luxury

Emily Lake Hansen

Luxury

This September the cool
air has come quickly
and I’m in love with how
it crawls into my belly,
smooths its long creases
on the bones of my esophagus.
What a luxury — to feel
   

On Transatlantic Shame  photo
December 22, 2020 | Nonfiction

On Transatlantic Shame 

I.S. Jones

1955

Nothing is earned unless something is lost. You lost your father in a car accident, as mommy explained. You are less than a year old and don’t have language for anything, much less grief. The

Disgorge photo
December 21, 2020 | Fiction

Disgorge

Luke Wortley

Once, during practice, I shot the most beautiful double-leg on my best friend and jackhammered us both into the mat, eyes swimming in twilight.

Two Poems photo
December 21, 2020 | Poetry

Two Poems

Angela Qian

daughter

Her mother sometimes talks in her sleep
while she, so it’s told, whimpers or stretches.
Her brother twitches restlessly through the night.
He’s got finer hair and stronger teeth,
their

The Van Man photo
December 20, 2020 | Rejected Modern Love Essay

The Van Man

Elizabeth Morgan

When Michael left for the West, I experienced what in Portuguese is known as saudade, an intense nostalgia for a person.

Fatherhood photo
December 18, 2020 | Fiction

Fatherhood

Lauren Barbato

There’s always a man, somewhere, taking out the trash, his light blue jeans rolled above his ankles; waving at his elderly neighbor watering her tomato plants; picking up the morning paper and

Two Poems photo
December 18, 2020 | Poetry

Two Poems

M. Elizabeth Scott

CHIAROSCURO

-

Your hand and its physical touch
fuschia as you brush

The inside
of desire and nothing

I'll say it
on the skin of your tongue

Name and unname
your eyes and their

When the World Was Ending, We Wore the Cornrows. We Twisted our Coils, and We Waited photo
December 17, 2020 | Nonfiction

When the World Was Ending, We Wore the Cornrows. We Twisted our Coils, and We Waited

Exodus Oktavia Brownlow

Why are we so very unwanted, but somehow always wanted by the worst of things?

Four Poems photo
December 17, 2020 | Poetry

Four Poems

shy watson

sour

i wanted
in the way
that want follows

bedraggled
a half moon
of bites

it starts
like this
slowly

rara saw
FIRE FIRE
in my eyes

hard to describe
to you who
no longer

Grip photo
December 16, 2020 | Nonfiction

Grip

Connor Goodwin

The first time I went rock climbing, I lasted 30 minutes.

Echo Chamber photo
December 16, 2020 | Fiction

Echo Chamber

Claire Hopple

“Here’s the thing. You can’t be doing this. You’re 38 years old. You’re a compulsive liar. You have cavernous molars. And you’re already being tailed by the police.”

Everybody’s Out on the Run Tonight photo
December 15, 2020 | Nonfiction

Everybody’s Out on the Run Tonight

Matt Mitchell

We listened to the fathers sitting on the front porch of Hurd’s, smoking cigarettes and talking baseball until sundown. It was our one final glimpse of our world before it was rebuilt.

On Shaving My Legs for the First Time photo
December 15, 2020 | Poetry

On Shaving My Legs for the First Time

Nandini Maharaj

On Shaving my Legs for the First Time

the offending hairs that sprout from dark skin
like unwelcome ants that toil through the night

hairs that signal virility on my father’s chin
draw taunts

During A Quake photo
December 14, 2020 | Fiction

During A Quake

Mialise Carney

It was late, and he’d roll out of the parking lot and speed down the hill, sliding through winding backstreets with no streetlights, careening all over the road like he thought us coming face-to-face with death would make me feel better about working at Walmart.

An Immigrant Love Letter photo
December 14, 2020 | Poetry

An Immigrant Love Letter

Kimberly Nguyen

an immigrant love letter

this is a love letter

     to jasmine rice     and soy sauce     in the ethnic aisle     to the crisp

     melting     of duck skin in my mouth     you taste     the

Bodrum photo
December 13, 2020 | fucked up modern love essays

Bodrum

C. R. Resetarits

I smile now, waiting, always waiting, for you to reappear and remember me ...

Xenia photo
December 11, 2020 | Fiction

Xenia

Caroline Henley

The holidays loom and I’ve got two weeks off work. Last Christmas was pretty quiet. Not much family left. Karen was the one with the big family. I enjoy the church service in the morning. The kids

Rumours photo
December 11, 2020 | Jukebox Happy Hour

Rumours

Sean Gill

My wife and I are in pretty deep with the Mac. You can tell because we call them "the Mac."