Ohio

we belong in the grass. my twin is in every photo. we made our way out of the alley, rockford files dialogue, fedora, the curtain light is half-awake. climb the rock wall like the rest of

Should we smash the cricket of silence and smear its remains on our knees?
How do you feel about rap music? Do you know A$AP Rocky?
I don’t like Lil Durk yet; I don’t like Rich Homie Quan yet—it’s 2011.

I had no business in a haberdashery store that expensive as a seventeen-year-old high school student most recently employed as a dishwasher; even less so as a recently self-declared man, an until-three-weeks-ago woman, lurking timidly, covetously, in the racks of ties.  

Dude, You Killed a Marsupial

            for my brother

What I’ve learned about opossums

since that gruesome ordeal

a few summers back

is that:

* they have

Just look at those soup prices when Clinton was in office.

—MULLIGATAWNY (The Pain and the Yearning)—

You could put that rooster sauce on a shoe and it would taste pretty good to

Marlon Brando works at the full-serve Sunoco

For most foreigners overseas, the closest they’ll ever come to tasting American cuisine will be our junk food. McDonald’s, KFC, and Lay’s Potato chips are our culinary ambassadors, spreading the

you come in tell me of your night like the boys all stared at ur tits

Leo and I are dicking around in his room after school when I pull this big cardboard box out of the closet.

—What is this? I ask.

—That’s my card catalogue, Leo says.

—Is this every

In my experience, it has been more helpful to have resolutions with a more quantitative approach, like 'cutting back on meat' or 'doing less drugs' or 'not being in a relationship for a while'. 

This movie is a semiotic fuck you

sex feels like a burden when you aren't on drugs

Behold the ass of Mickey

Here we collect a bunch of answers from the interviews we ran in 2013 that we think might serve you as inspiration and writerly advice for the work you hope to do in 2014. Please enjoy, and good

AJ

he was special

and gigantic

i imagine his hands sometimes when i’m feeling bored

and want to think about middle school

they were fucking huge and could probably seriously

Mom. Dad. Where have you been? Everyone else is already here. You missed the first prelim bout. I'll catch you up: Siyar Bahadurzada won by tap out in the second due to rear-naked choke. What? No,

Kingston Falls, USA is the most beautiful matte painting on earth. An idyllic little town with buildings clustered together for warmth on the snow-covered streets, brush-stroke lampposts casting a

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.

Sometime during the last two hours, Clark Griswold has stopped feeling cold.

He claws at the frozen ground, vaguely aware of the intensifying blizzard. Snow replaces the dirt he shovels between

Across the street, I see a large, jolly-looking man with a white beard and white hair leaving the house of our friends, David and Shelby. The man is wearing camouflage – the jacket, hat and hip waders of a duck hunter.

I am at the back of the ConEx with a broom in my hand, smoking a cigarette. Every year it is the same. The light filters in through the opposite end where a padlock hangs from a steel latch on the

At nearly two in the morning, in the room across the hall from where his wife slept, Geoff Devine was awake, gazing down at the above ground pool in the backyard. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that within the giant wooden drum, the murky water reflected the light of the moon. 

To be honest, there were other books that had as great an impact on me, but I don’t have access to those authors (Bret Easton Ellis – Lunar Park, Elizabeth Wurtzel – More, Now, Again, W. Somerset Maugham – Of Human Bondage)..

When I was fourteen my mother moved into an apartment across town with my principal, Mr. Lorenzo, who was rumored to keep a pistol strapped beneath his dress slacks. My younger sister, Caroline,

In jest you call for your horse, but there is no horse. It’s a bright lettuce-green morning, birds piping overhead. You are on foot, and follow the derelict tracks out of town past the Shell Station.  You step off the road and onto a furry plain of high golden weeds and yellow dross. This is strange. 

It only glows if I believe in God. Of course, the Fat Man doesn’t know that. Once an hour he comes into the barn waving his short black club, threatening to cut off my carrot supply. I sulk into