June 6, 2023 | Poetry
He said everyone is going to die except us
June 5, 2023 | Sports
Baseball Hybrid Poem
I tried to remember something my dad told me about Luis Aparicio after Ozzie Guillen made an error in a game in 1991.
June 5, 2023 | Nonfiction
Say You're Not Interested
Samantha Paige Rosen
Your date’s cologne smells like rancid wine, which should be a good enough reason to bail, but it’s only hour two and you’ve made a commitment.
June 4, 2023 | fucked up modern love essays
Premenstrual Love Letters
He doesn’t seem to think I’m a handful. I can tell by his texts.
Excerpt from 'Counterillumination'
I have to believe that what I am writing — what I am living through — means something.
NEW LIFE: LIMA, PERU
The Utah girls were already asleep. Unlike me, they were going home in a few days.
watching sports on tv
The Marathon was born out of a legend about a fifth-century Greek messenger named Philippides who ran 26.2 miles without stopping to deliver a message that the Greeks had defeated the Persians in battle.
She started to ride by his Marigny shotgun until he came out and became her boyfriend. Her boyfriend, a chef who meets with narcotics anonymously, orchestrates impromptu dinners in the backyard of a liquor store.
And then Greta. I found her crawling toward the lake, on fire.
Classified Insanity-Inducing Weapons: Gloria Naylor's '1996'
“To be inside of someone's mind has to be the sexiest thing in the world.”
He Belonged in a Dystopian Movie
I was still pouting over hometown boy, and neck-deep in an article about foiled wallpaper when I got a Facebook message from Preston. Could we get together?
He puts down his High Life. His pale hand drifts across the table toward mine
Jack Skelley on 'The Complete Fear Of Kathy Acker,' Breaking Rules, Disneyland, and BBLs
Bliss can flip into alienation and back into elation, adding to the teasing uncertainty of identity.
I can’t remember the last time I tried to play tennis or any sport but I can tell you all the winners from this week’s tournament
JOHNNY-THE-ORDERLY & other stories
When you peed in the cup, Herman was behind you, watching.
Girls on Dirty Sofas, Close Together
‘Did you talk about capes,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Mary said.
tethered to the other always
But I don’t even know what a collective is. And I can’t remember if he had tattoos.
The sky is vampiric
In the train carriage, we’re hot in our furs, brooding and half-drunk.
Society of Elliott Smiths
One weird Halloween everybody dressed up as Elliott Smith.
Gulf Stream Kindness
I was taking a new drug that was making it so I could talk to my car.
Exponentially Femme: Jenny Fran Davis on Dykette
like HFCA is kind of artless manipulation
it’s not subtle
We loved her but expected her to go on and on, weeping with her flowers and crown, reciting poems.
Self-cleaning car cleans self after nuclear blast
People keep saying that they can’t say anything but everyone is saying everything all the time.
Two Bikes, One City
Finally, Mr. Mackey, the chair of the school’s English Department, delivered a rambling panegyric about the school’s depth of talented writers. I left my seat in the bleachers to fetch a Dr. Pepper from the vending machine.
When My Mother Could No Longer Talk Me Off the Ledge
Like many who quit drinking, my mother became a proselytizer for sobriety.