June 19, 2025 | Interview
The Dollification Letters: Sexy Exchanges Between Silicone God and Myth Lab
Victoria Brooks and Jack Skelley
Victoria Brooks is the author of Silicone God (MOIST Books/House of Vlad) a queer sci-fi novel. Jack Skelley is author of The Complete Fear of Kathy Acker (Semiotext(e)), and Myth Lab: Theories of
June 18, 2025 | Nonfiction
the Doors of Perception
Jennifer Ostopovich
Tina joins our class mid semester. Instantly, I dig her aura. She shares the relaxed gait and slow drawl of the local stoners. She wears her dark hair flat and parted down the middle and has an
June 17, 2025 | Fiction
What Is the Moon Called?
Michael Robert Liska
The moon men decided to come to Earth because they didn’t like the way the Earth people were always staring at them. Whenever they looked up at that enormous blue orb through their telescope, the
June 16, 2025 | Poetry
Midnight In The Amazon Company Town
Nicola Maye Goldberg
Last spring was the last spring.
Are Three Cats Too Many for a Single Man to Own?
Samantha Zielinski
Over coffee, he told me he thought I dumped him last time because we had sex too soon.
wouldn’t that be funny ha ha ha
Michael Washington
Neither a drop of white wine into the danube canal, nor a gunshot through the roof of my mouth, but something in between
Two Poems
Sofija Popovska
On the lawn, sprinklers bend the light with no greater purpose
“YOUR VOICE INSIDE ME LIKE BEATING WINGS”: A REVIEW OF IAN PENMAN’S FASSBINDER THOUSANDS OF MIRRORS
Liam Shanahan
448.
The East German dramaturge Heiner Müller adopted Brecht’s notion of Kopien (German for ‘copying’ or ‘sampling’), the practice of regarding texts by others as material to be used, imitated,
Privacy Fence
Austin Blaze
It’s got good bones, everyone kept telling us. Who knows.
Fablegun Construction
Drew Mosman
I see them right there plain as day, two-dimensional prints, sacred geometry, my life is full of meaning.
Umbilical Rights to Sunday Rites
B.J.Y.
Her umbilical right to intimacy makes me wonder if I ever left the womb.
[bused in michigan winters, I believed the honesty of strangers]
J.L. Moultrie
no one can reach me you stopped drinking mined former awe
Failure to Disappear
Faryal Rashid
I was convinced I would die. A lone cig, maybe three gin spritzes, benzodiazepining into extinction. Ativan.
“Fuck the Future, Join the Freak Circus”: A Review of Jessamyn Violet’s Venice Peach
Melissa Pleckham
As weird and wild and beautiful and filthy as Venice Beach itself, Jessamyn Violet's new novel, Venice Peach, has everything I want in books about Los Angeles: Beautiful imagery, characters that are
the head of the mule deer in your father's den was a gift from his cousin
Eric Subpar
I am more deserving of your love than he is. My heart beats twice the size of others.
Regretting the Times I’ve Watched Hot Tub Time Machine: Why a 2010s “Dick Flick” Always Fucks Me Up
Art Tavana
“When we were young, we had momentum. We were winning. We were best friends. Everybody seemed to care more. Everything seemed to matter more back then.”
~ Hot Tub Time Machine (2010)
On
Negotiations
Rachel Young
The pain reminds me: I am here. I am real. I matter.
You Must Change Your Life
Sam Levy
I put away my matchsticks / and hammer. You remain, standing / the same as you were.
Indigo, Indigoing, Indigone
Jennifer Murphy
when I laugh, you perk up
like a misted lily
We're dooming ourselves: 2 poems
Taylor Napolsky
there’s always something new to say
Blood & Buffalo ’66
Danielle Chelosky
It is only for an hour or two that I get to panic about pregnancy before the blood starts.
She’s lifting space for a minute ago—
Marisela Zamora
behold a God's eye in storm where tapping rings / finish me.
Betrayal Taught Me to Trust Myself
STEPHANIE SELLARS
Michelle understood my frustration. She diagnosed Peter with “terminal vagueness” and agreed it wasn’t my job to financially support him.
ORANGE SHADOWS IN THE NIGHTTIME, THROUGH MY DIMLY LIT MIND (A Song by The Rising Storm)
Gurkiran Gill
Hoarding is bad and it’s equally bad when all that indie music doesn’t hit the spot anymore
Sophie Madeline Dess’s What You Make of Me
GD Dess
I like crazy. I like the monomaniacal Captain Ahab, the deranged Humbert Humbert, the murderous Raskolnikov, the obsessed Heathcliff, the serial killers Patrick Bateman and Tom Ripley, the psychopath
There Will Be Blood
Kim Acrylic
Lies are told beneath silvery moons
And far beyond sad boys and girls falling in love.
Snowflakes
Amy DeBellis
I wake up the next morning with the sensation that my lips weigh ten pounds and are about to drop off my face. I’m too scared to look in the mirror,