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Showing results for September, 2020

Two Poems photo
September 14, 2020 | Poetry

Two Poems

Lindsay Lerman

not the man

you should have fucked
the forest, not the man

the ravine holds secrets
not him

not him
secrets hold the ravine

not the man, the forest
you should have fucked

easy come,

My Love Affair With The Dead photo
September 13, 2020 | Rejected Modern Love Essay

My Love Affair With The Dead

Joyce Hayden

About two weeks into the Coronavirus Quarantine, I began noticing some odd behaviors.

New York Strange, vol. 7 photo
September 13, 2020 | New York Strange

New York Strange, vol. 7

Caits Meissner

Everything is Somewhat Repaired: Haunted photo
September 13, 2020 | Comics

Everything is Somewhat Repaired: Haunted

Tom or Judy Moore

Two Poems photo
September 11, 2020 | Poetry

Two Poems

Krysta Lee Frost

 

 

Pamela Linda Gretchen Stevie Patti Kim photo
September 11, 2020 | Fiction

Pamela Linda Gretchen Stevie Patti Kim

Amy Rossi

He will present it like an offering, like an opportunity, like the whole human history of men holding out shimmery circle-shaped objects as a shorthand for a promise. You, he tells her, can play the

Antirelationship Period photo
September 10, 2020 | Poetry

Antirelationship Period

Tao Lin

My favorite period historically

has been the interim period

Titanic: Adventure Out of Time photo
September 10, 2020 | Games of My Youth

Titanic: Adventure Out of Time

Tabitha Blankenbiller

I wandered the recreated Titanic dozens of times during my middle school summer of 1998, hiding from the heat and shitty neighborhood kids by camping in front of our family’s PC. TITANIC: ADVENTURE

Three Shorts photo
September 10, 2020 | Fiction

Three Shorts

Leah Dawson

Lunar Flesh

Your daughter wraps her arms around your waist and asks, Does everyone have a skeleton inside? 

Already dinner is on the table. Brown rice, sticky rice, ginger duck, little saucers

My Children, Who Sleep From the Ceiling photo
September 9, 2020 | Fiction

My Children, Who Sleep From the Ceiling

Alyssa Asquith

I did not ask for the children. They came uninvited, as most children do, sometimes with trinkets or pets. Of their pets, the seagull is my least favorite. He is an ugly, smoke-colored creature, quite

Three Poems photo
September 9, 2020 | Poetry

Three Poems

Allie Hoback

Desert Dance

I didn’t believe tumbleweeds were real until I saw one
just like ghosts or gods or anything: I’ll believe it when I see it.
Somewhere I fused leaving & searching into the same

My Name is Kook photo
September 8, 2020 | Jukebox Happy Hour

My Name is Kook

Sean O'Neill

It was a year well-lived, but glamorous only in its simplicity– I had 6 roommates, all of us year-long volunteers packed into a one story house, where minus rent and Costco we each earned only $100-a-month in stipend.

Late June on the North Side of Town photo
September 8, 2020 | Poetry

Late June on the North Side of Town

Tyler Dillow

Late June on the North Side of Town

We are in a paleteria eating lime & chamoy ice cream—
or is it sorbet? On our walk over here we talked
about ginkgo leaves & how they offer the

Contracts photo
September 7, 2020 | Fiction

Contracts

Chloe Hadavas

The boy’s hair was like the sand. He looked good. They all did, bruiseless in the sun. Striped towels in primary colors lay beneath them, shovels and tilting turrets walled them in. Sonia cupped a

Three Poems photo
September 7, 2020 | Poetry

Three Poems

Benjamin Harnett

CHESTERTON’S FENCE

The poem is a small gate
on a country road
the rare motorist must stop
to unlatch
before going on. Even
the road is forgotten
more of a “long”-cut:

Nowhere to nowhere

Throwback photo
September 6, 2020 | fucked up modern love essays

Throwback

Nora Lange

All the Lovesick attendees were gathered outside to listen to the event’s MC, but he was struggling to figure out how to turn on his mic.

Words Fail, Chapter 1a: Converging photo
September 6, 2020 | Sunday Comics

Words Fail, Chapter 1a: Converging

Angus Woodward

Three Poems photo
September 4, 2020 | Poetry

Three Poems

Benjamin DeVos

the only person who texts me is my mom

mostly about how her back hurts
i send her a
proverb that says: you are as old as your spine
she replies: then i must be dead
my mom is always

The Dingos photo
September 4, 2020 | Fiction

The Dingos

Dane Harrison

Moonlight hiccups through the dirty windows, jumps around on our faces as the truck hits potholes. We’re already gone, smoking cigarettes.

Maeve photo
September 3, 2020 | Fiction

Maeve

Walker Rutter-Bowman

I saw Maeve standing by the smoked nut stand. Her hair was flying in the wind. She was standing on the subway grate, letting those blasts blow at her, too. That seemed a little much. There was trash

A Man's Leg photo
September 3, 2020 | Nonfiction

A Man's Leg

Dev Murphy

I caught a glimpse of a man’s leg, narrow but with glances of plumpness, the soft hairy shin, down to the inside of the bony foot, tapering into toes, and I was assaulted by a memory of you and your

Two Poems photo
September 2, 2020 | Poetry

Two Poems

Sammi LaBue

Gratitude for what’s new now

When we,
best friends,
held each other's faces in our hands
like crystals
as he discovered something about himself.

When the eddy rushed,
the water
flowing in

Is Anyone There? photo
September 2, 2020 | Fiction

Is Anyone There?

Hollynn Huitt

It has been two and a half months since I’ve seen anyone other than Evan, my new baby, and my husband, not counting the rotating cast of delivery drivers who balance the occasional jumbo box of diapers on the top of the fence post by the gate.

Swordfishtrombones photo
September 1, 2020 | Jukebox Happy Hour

Swordfishtrombones

Avery Gregurich

I’m behind a snow plow, tonguing salt and exhaust fumes, white-knuckling a compact car, and screaming at a hamper of clean clothes to just keep from crying. Tom Waits is with me, wailing as we swerve, any of these songs seeming appropriate soundtracks to crash quietly into the ditch with.

Ken at the Modern Pharmacy photo
September 1, 2020 | Fiction

Ken at the Modern Pharmacy

Jean Pierre Nikuze

He joins the queuing customers. He’d read the overhead menu when he drew closer. In the meantime he’d twiddle with his phone to avoid standing out like a statue. He wraps his scarf loosely around his