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Showing results for July, 2020

Knowledge photo
July 31, 2020 | Nonfiction


Peter Witte

On Human Origins

You take a half-person’s body, then another half-person’s body, and you connect them together and put them inside the mom’s body. Then they grow and grow and grow. Then you

The Surrender Game photo
July 31, 2020 | Nonfiction

The Surrender Game

Suzanne Richardson

This is how we played: one of us would lay on top of the other fully clothed, “go dead,” and see if the other could move. He relished it. I would lay on him, every part of me heavy and slack. It was

July 30, 2020 | Poetry


Chris Hutchinson

On Day One, Larry-the-Lizard quits smoking
and eating saturated crap.
Day Two: he buys a hard pack of Dunhill King Size
on his way to Fatty Patty’s Burger Palace. Why?
Because the purplish

February photo
July 30, 2020 | Nonfiction


Erica Trabold

I bought a compilation of Michael Jackson Number Ones when the Wal-Mart Supercenter finally opened. It feels right to have viewed the future from my bedroom, door closed, music up.

Opana, Dying, in Baltimore: An Excerpt from Fucked Up photo
July 29, 2020 | Fiction

Opana, Dying, in Baltimore: An Excerpt from Fucked Up

Damien Ark

I return to the kitchen and walk in on Jodeci pulling a syringe out of her neck. She takes the rope from my hands and uses it as a tourniquet for my arm.

Letter To My Sixth-Grade Self As He Constructs A Bomb photo
July 29, 2020 | Nonfiction

Letter To My Sixth-Grade Self As He Constructs A Bomb

Neil Richard Grayson

In fact, even if I could reverse my reach through the years spanning us and stop you, I don’t think I would.

Visiting Susanne photo
July 28, 2020 | Fiction

Visiting Susanne

Joshua Hebburn

They’d bought too much house, too much lot, with a Californian equity. They’d cashed out into a what AARP said was a prime retirement state.

girl/rampant photo
July 28, 2020 | Poetry


A. Prevett

“But beauty wasn’t enough.”
 – Gretchen Marquette

Nurturing as a kestrel checking your sheets for mice        I am a woman  designed.   Because  I   was   designed
       it follows that I was

The Rats  photo
July 27, 2020 | Nonfiction

The Rats 

Alex Tronson

We hear them in the kitchen, leaping around with meaty thuds, and in the morning Cheryl has barricaded the kitchen door. She tells me the landlord sent someone to assess the situation.

“Okay,” I

Almond? photo
July 27, 2020 | Fiction


Mila Jaroniec

I look at these evil thoughts you have and evil thoughts you share and still feel like I could heal you, if we could see each other.

Real American Racehorse photo
July 26, 2020 | fucked up modern love essays

Real American Racehorse

Leon Hedstrom

I suppose I was in a conspiratorial mood when I told you that I don’t always feel like a man.

2 Comics photo
July 26, 2020 | Comics

2 Comics

Meg Reynolds

Life Left photo
July 24, 2020 | Nonfiction

Life Left

Laura Price Steele

The last dozen years of my life could be mapped out by my Craigslist history, moments when I’ve called out into the abyss and some voice has come whistling out of the darkness with the exact inverse of my need.

Big Foot Walking photo
July 24, 2020 | Fiction

Big Foot Walking

Jon Berger

Psycho Trev scared the shit out of me. He did the dishes at a Tony’s diner in town. He lived in a singlewide out in the woods and did a lot of shrooms. He had huge parties at his place too.

Three Poems photo
July 23, 2020 | Poetry

Three Poems

Anis Gisele

young girls walk alone 
at night and 

                               laugh from their bellies, sing 
                               in jungle gym voices 
                               to cradled stars 

Hitchhiking Through Florida photo
July 23, 2020 | Nonfiction

Hitchhiking Through Florida

Jake Maynard

It was 2007, and the closest that most Americans came to hitchhiking were two new movies: The Hitcher and The Hitchhiker, a lower-budget version of the same plot. In both movies young naïve roadtrippers pick up good-looking psychopaths in the desert. In The Hitcher Sean Bean chains a teen heartthrob between two semi trucks and pulls him apart at the waist.

Splitting photo
July 22, 2020 | Nonfiction


Katie Culligan

There is a loneliness to many things, I am finding: there is a loneliness to sidewalks, to tea bags, to guest bathroom wastebaskets. This hickory wood sits like concrete in my hands; there is also a loneliness to interacting with materials, materials that can’t know what kind of end they’re meeting.

End of Era After Era photo
July 22, 2020 | Fiction

End of Era After Era

O F Cieri

The bands tear down a shelf in the green room to smash through the drywall. Tin tiles on the ceiling clattered with each slam, and white dust poured down the wall in veins. The lid of my beer was

Emmy vs. the Bellies photo
July 21, 2020 | Fiction

Emmy vs. the Bellies

Meghan Phillips

 So yeah, none of us were happy about the bellies but Emmy was pissed. She said it was stupid that the school used grant money to buy fake pregnant bellies for all the freshman girls.

Two Poems photo
July 21, 2020 | Poetry

Two Poems

Carly Joy Miller

Theater of Inheritance

Wrong to say I accept the rough
face of my family. Your father,

so young-looking, your mother
even more. I grew older than boys

around me because I was

Watch My Contact photo
July 20, 2020 | Fiction

Watch My Contact

Kaj Tanaka

Fields of canola stretch out across the hills as far as the eye can see, and the sky is rolling back like the whites of eyes.

On Being Outside of the Body photo
July 20, 2020 | Nonfiction

On Being Outside of the Body

Danielle Shorr

On a bench outside the classroom on our fifteen-minute break, I close my eyes and practice the grounding exercise my therapist taught me earlier that week. Facing the rush hour freeway, I try to

Time Lapse photo
July 19, 2020 | fucked up modern love essays

Time Lapse

Uzodinma Okehi

(Iowa City 1995)

What I think I want, is Inez . . . Fuck! Now it’s a blur. Drawing. Rather, a dream in which I’m drawing.

The Story of My Hands photo
July 19, 2020 | Comics

The Story of My Hands

Danielle Shorr

Memento Mori, or in Other Words photo
July 17, 2020 | Poetry

Memento Mori, or in Other Words

Stephanie Tom

Canada Goose — the age-old adage of 
whether or not a ton of bricks or a ton 

of feathers is heavier & the fact that it’s
always the feathers because you have to live 

with the guilt on

yetting photo
July 17, 2020 | Fiction


Edmund Sandoval

You made a bowl out of a Faygo can. Your wet hair piled on top of your head. We had a book of CDs. Antique-looking condoms from the vending machine in a gas station bathroom purchased on the drive over.

Siege Liturgy photo
July 16, 2020 | Poetry

Siege Liturgy

Nandini Dhar

On the tip of my tongue, the shadow of your incomplete rebellion 
a riverine blister ; a city-street broken into brick-brats, 

glued together again to fashion a ceramic gnome, its 

American Picker in Exile photo
July 16, 2020 | Nonfiction

American Picker in Exile

Cameron Thomas Snyder

I came from the city, was sort of swept away by the bristles of time and love and bowel-upsetting uncertainty, and I am now in a dust pan called Mora County, New Mexico. Dust pan is not derogatory; it’s a just a place where things end up.

The Alumni Association photo
July 15, 2020 | Fiction

The Alumni Association

Maggie Siebert

“Hey buddy, are you alright?” 

The husband looked at me with a smile disguising mild alarm. 

“I’m going to be.” 

my lover and I lose our bodies and become parts of speech photo
July 15, 2020 | Poetry

my lover and I lose our bodies and become parts of speech

Paula Harris

adjective /

fuck yes