Posts by CR

March 17, 2024 | fucked up modern love essays

Talking with Z Wasn’t Unpleasant


The final weekend of January I boarded a plane to Seattle to see, for the first time, a man I had met on a kink website. Or, as I had considered multiple times over the last two months during which we

March 4, 2024 | Poetry

3 Poems

Cletus Crow

The homing pigeon / of misery / is my baby mama's / text message.

February 20, 2024 | Fiction


Trevor Crown

I could hear the usual blues music booming from Ryan’s garage as I got off my bike in the driveway, sweating through my Smoothie King uniform. Ryan’s dad had started and quit three blues bands in the

December 21, 2023 | Fiction

What If We Did Something Amazing

Robert McCready

Uncle Dale says, “We’re lucky that none of us can fly.”

December 20, 2023 | Nonfiction


Cletus Crow

He was only Jack. Never daddy.

November 27, 2023 | Fiction

The Biggest Ball In the World

Robert McCready

In late July, in the mid-nineties, I begged Mom and her fiancé Paul to buy me a big ball at Roses department store.

November 24, 2023 | Fiction

Excerpt from NIAGARA FALLS, NY

Ric Royer

I'm sure a terrible something has occurred at every inhabitable coordinate. 

July 21, 2023 | Sports

Duchess, 2003

Stephan Crown-Weber

There was a week when my grandma was gone, I had the whole place to myself, was drinking the regular Coca Cola classic and the half sized baby Coca Cola and brought the Abercrombie pictures out in the open on the second floor. I meditated.

February 10, 2023 | Modern Film Review

Killing Yourself to Live: a read on Brandon Cronenberg's Infinity Pool

Craigen Z Oster

This final image crushed me. It was a forewarning of what identity destruction can lead to if we
don’t truly understand ourselves to begin with.

January 15, 2023 | fucked up modern love essays


Jerusha Crone

I hold myself in the plank position. The little dog sits on the rug watching. It’s a very expensive rug. She’s not supposed to be here. He’s up on the purple couch and I do not know what he is

January 9, 2023 | Modern Film Review

Painting a Picture of a Human Being or: Thinking About Lydia Tár As If She Were Myself

Craigen Z Oster

I first saw Todd Field’s Tár in a packed theatre in Bloomfield Township, Michigan with a crowd
of mostly middle-aged and above upper to upper-middle class New Yorker-tote-bag liberal types.
During the first 20 or so minutes of the film I found myself annoyed, fidgeting in my seat and
groaning as I sat through the titular EGOT winner’s conversation with Adam Gopnick.

June 21, 2022 | Poetry

32 Teeth

brittny crowell

i ask if i could be june
my birth month he says all days any days
for a smile like mine

June 8, 2022 | Interview

Maybe Then I'll Be Cured: An Interview with Graham Irvin

Crow Jonah Norlander

You might be reluctant to try liver mush. You might think it’s not for me. But you are at a party, and you’ve been cornered by a stranger, and there’s nobody else there you really want to talk to, and

March 9, 2022 | Poetry

The Stay of Grief

Elizabeth Crowell

There is one boat out every day.
We are never packed in time to take it.

November 19, 2021 | Poetry

My Lover Strokes the Scar Between my Breasts Before We Fall to Sleep

Margarita Cruz

Under the ribs, between the lungs, where no periscope lives
to view the damage of long nights spent in cold underpasses...

May 7, 2021 | Fiction


Crow Jonah Norlander

For the first time ever, they were being honest about their sex lives.

February 11, 2021 | Fiction

Reign in Bliss

Crow Jonah Norlander

He wondered, "What if I never get out of the shower?" and just like that he never did.

December 13, 2020 | fucked up modern love essays


C. R. Resetarits

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

December 2, 2020 | Poetry

Three Poems

Rosa Crepax

One night of nothing

When the languorous motion of bats and owls overthrows the scorching August air
making a party only takes three

One night of nothing
heavy      on an empty

November 24, 2020 | Fiction

Dry-Humping Andrea Schwartz

Eric Rosenblum

Margot and I had humped once, too, when I stopped by and Andrea wasn’t home.

October 14, 2020 | Nonfiction

Nine Endings

Sara Crowley


And they all lived happily ever after. 


Finishing work on the Saturday and heading to the pub because that’s what we always did. Tall Paul and small Paul and (ordinary) Paul, Ian, Bel,

September 20, 2020 |

Up North: Snowstorm

Crystal S. Gibbins

August 23, 2020 |

Up North: WI Creatures

Crystal S. Gibbins

June 29, 2020 | Fiction


Crystal K.

I confess my DIY rituals in high school, tiny fires fueled by crumpled notes and dried flowers from lost loves and later, gifts from my parents bought during the divorce. In the smoke, my hope conceived visions: sometimes revenge, always return. Nothing I witnessed was more than smoke

June 23, 2020 | Fiction

All of Us Have It 

Crow Jonah Norlander

Everything that could have possibly budged already had, anything neglectable was long ago done so.

March 19, 2020 | Poetry


Cristina Correa


Color Study, or Ode to Discomfort


It was never safe for us—
always beneath the eye is blood;
and maybe a ferocious tongue

March 13, 2020 | Fiction

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

Juliana Crespo

They walked along the railroad somewhere in Atlanta on a cold and bitter night, the full moon above them like a yellow coin some unforgiving God had tossed far out into the galaxy. In the near

February 16, 2020 |

Up North: Hiking the U.P.

Crystal S. Gibbins

January 19, 2020 |

Up North: Hummingbird

Crystal S. Gibbins

December 3, 2019 | Nonfiction

We Fat Ourselves For Maggots

Lena Crown

One evening when I was fifteen, back in 2009, my ballet teacher arrived at the studio wearing a shit-eating grin. Jeff loved to gossip, and he spoke with a showy Southern twang that made the juice of every secret dribble down our fingers.

September 18, 2019 | Poetry

Three Poems 

Brody Parrish Craig

Bible | Vers

Top to Bottom | scan my profile | For Christ’s Sake | Sing Jesus’ Name | I gospel & apostle | Book of Vers | My rural bottom’s up | My crop /top | down along the road | a hym(n) in

August 9, 2019 | Poetry


Rebecca Cross

I was standing in line for a movie and a movie played in my head.
I was standing in line for a movie and the movie I was waiting to see strode through the lobby and out the front door.
I was

July 24, 2019 | Poetry

Sweet Shoppe

Alli Cruz

When he wasn't looking / I snuck / a spoonful...

July 23, 2019 | Nonfiction

Meanwhile, Et in Arcadia

Patrick Crerand

Of course, Jesus only had hyssop—a bitter wine on a wet sponge—during the passion, but that was not an option at the concession stand.

June 5, 2019 | Nonfiction


Juliana Crespo

Soon sunlight would be replaced by nighttime.  I felt this, the same way my grandma could feel the rain coming on.  

December 24, 2018 | Fiction

Sharp Cheddar with Dijon on Rye

Christina Craigo

He watched the door, and saw that it wanted to open.

December 15, 2018 | Fiction

Hard To Know

Sophie McCreesh

I remember playing some songs at four in the morning and asking if you liked them. What the songs sounded like doesn’t matter now. I only knew a little about songs back then but I know a bit more

December 4, 2018 | Poetry

Two Poems

Crow Jonah Norlander

"Unlikely to Condemn" and "Different Circumstances"

August 30, 2018 |

From the Balcony

Craig Loomis

From the long wooden balcony, from the house that overlooks a forest that is almost bluegreen in springtime and a witchy red during the fall, the snow slants through the trees like a new


May 18, 2018 | Fiction

The Difficulty of Learning to Say Yes

Craig Fishbane

Naoko knew all too well how difficult it was to imbibe the air of a foreign culture. She had matriculated for a year at the University of Santa Barbara to study saxophone and marked each day as a progression from one shameful moment to the next.

September 22, 2017 | Interview

Hobart Interview! Fangirl Alert! Thank you Roxane! x

Leesa Cross-Smith

Roxane Gay took me out to dinner five years ago. It was Roxane, Ashley C. Ford and me. We were in Indianapolis and it was the first time I'd met either of them. I remember thinking wow this is one

December 14, 2016 | Poetry

Moon Poems

Leesa Cross-Smith


I can listen to “Thirteen” by Big Star and pretend
I am thirteen back in my flamingo
bedroom and a boy
would come to my

January 25, 2016 | Fiction

Trip the Light Fantastic

Craig Buchner

She almost said yes until she saw the stain.

December 28, 2015 | Fiction

Herman French

Eric Rosenblum

The one and only time I saw Herman French naked was when he was toweling off after a shower.  Herman was my bunkmate two years ago at Camp Thunderbird.  He had the smallest penis I’d ever seen. 

November 4, 2015 |

Emotional Boys Being Emotional: a Bro Country Dispatch

Leesa Cross-Smith

Luke walks that line inbetween doing his booty-shaking and grinding on stage and also seeming like your “cool” youth pastor and that's not a knock. I love Luke Bryan and there's something about him that seems so genuine and sweet, I can't even picture him being fussy or rude with anyone.

September 22, 2015 | Fiction


Mike Crossley

Destiny's Child third album track # 1 she plays as if I don't already know what’s up. She just wants me to remind her she's a queen so I play Coming to America, and we're okay for a few more years.

August 7, 2015 |


Leesa Cross-Smith

Bro Country is not all that different from dudes in general and real life. I've dated enough white dudes and went to college in Kentucky and I've been to, like, twenty-five Dave Matthews Band concerts, so, trust me, I know this stuff.

July 23, 2015 | Fiction

The Man with a Fish in His Heart

Michael Credico

I had runoff all over. I hadn’t escaped the heartland.

April 29, 2015 | Fiction

Pop Up

Wyl Villacres

“But what if it isn’t broken? What if this is the way it’s supposed to be? Like, a new challenge that keeps things interesting. Something unexplainable that helps.”

May 9, 2014 | Poetry

3 Poems

Jamison Crabtree


An absence surrounds the cabin; an absence haunts it.

My father sits inside, playing sad songs to the evening on his own

December 26, 2013 | Poetry

Two Poems

Craig Buchner

Those birds swept down with great urgency, talons punching the water, tearing into fish flesh, sometimes with a force that cut the salmon in two.

November 25, 2013 | Fiction

Other Animals

Craig Buchner

Win wasn't homeless, which set him apart from the others. But he'd hit rock-bottom, jobless and sharing enough to be one among them. In the fifty-station clinic, they were strapped to centrifuge

November 21, 2013 | Poetry

Spanking Diane Sawyer

Daniel Crocker

I want to spank Diane Sawyer
In fact, I'd pay upwards of
fifty dollars for it, at least
if she was wearing white cotton

In my fantasy
I wonder
I stop and ask,

November 14, 2013 | Poetry

2 Poems

Karen Craigo

Ars Poetica

I want to say this
simply: I was out
near the river; the trees
were bare, and would be.
I saw no blacksnake
in the undergrowth,
but that doesn’t mean
it wasn’t there,

May 1, 2012 | Fiction


Elizabeth Crane


On the last day of her life, my grandmother woke up, went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, and looked into the mirror to discover that she was bald. Oh! she said. That's a fright. This

August 1, 2010 | Fiction

Giant Panda Monster

Craig Renfroe

I am a fifty foot and two inch panda monster. It’s time for my sacrifice. If it’s not there, then it’s time to rampage through the village. I live out in the woods, a deep ancient forest, trees

March 1, 2010 | Fiction

Chorale for the First Rental House on Your Block

Craig Davis

Outside on his porch was an indoor sofa. But he kept the lawn mowed. Early in the morning when the grass was still too wet — there he was, limping behind the mower, cursing God and us when it

December 1, 2008 | Fiction


Eugene Cross

The winter I turned twenty-seven, I followed a woman who said she might love me to a small town in Northwest Pennsylvania, a go-between place that provided me with little comfort, except maybe to

June 1, 2006 | Fiction

Had It Not Been

Crissa Chappell

The guy at table six wiggled his fingers. “Mind if I asked a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” said Miranda, reaching for the check. He was going to anyway.

Table Six grinned. His sunburned

May 1, 2006 | Fiction

Pure Static

Craig Terlson

Dave wondered what had happened to the TV.

He had faraway memories of nature programs, black and white comedians with European accents and harshly lit news programs with stories as stark as