Featured Writing

A pair of hands hold up a black book.

A Statement on Religion

By James Croal Jackson Perhaps divinity is in devotion– pages of textover thousands of years, eternal ramblingin the clockwork ticking the days to etch instone the wings I’d searched away, blindfaith in running water, erosion of the endlessnights I’d stay awake to eke out meaning.

read more...

Featured Posts

A pair of hands hold up a black book.

A Statement on Religion

By James Croal Jackson Perhaps divinity is in devotion– pages of textover thousands of years, eternal ramblingin the clockwork ticking the days to etch instone the wings I’d searched away, blindfaith in running water, erosion of the endlessnights I’d stay awake to eke out meaning.

read more...

A seagull looking directly ahead while standing in front of a window surrounded by brick.

Who We Are

By Jimmy Pappas We are bats at the mercy of young boysthrowing baseballs high into the nightsky under a streetlight causing us to chaseafter the movement only to swerve awayat the last second still searching for moths. & We are magicians’ helpersprivy to the secretsbut never findingthe adulation we crave….

read more...

The lower half of a figure stands in shallow ocean waters.

Memory with Water

By Jessie Raymundo For now let’s talk about sinkingcities, said my motherwho carries a pair of Neptunesin her eyes & paints about phantoms in Philippine poetry. Gravity is whenthe psychiatrist assessed you& heard a heart murmur like rain.In an instant, you were in the sea: a merman sticking his headabove…

read more...

A small wooden piece with a comma.

Proofreading

By James Croal Jackson I know        I know    if I can understand you    I am an asshole         but I want you to do well              I want you to write in the sunbarefoot on brick with…

read more...

A starfish washed up on the beach

Mementos

By Jen Drociak I’ve never been much of oneto collect or save mementos;intact slipper shells,angel wings,or even the elusive sea starwashed upon the rocky shore. a perfectly-rounded stonesmoothed by the pummeling ocean wavesor a piece of sea glass, once keeping time in a bottle. Nor even a flower, some may…

read more...

A person reading a book with face obscured.

Wallflower

By Aynsley Meshanic The phone rang next to her. Wendy closed her eyes, the words of Anthony Burgess now blocked from her view. (Story: A Clockwork Orange. Times read: 2. Times read understanding the language: 1. …Maybe). She took three deep breaths, trying to stop any slight tug on her…

read more...

Two blank sticky notes on a desk next to a computer keyboard and earphones.

The Things We Owe Each Other

By Jimmy Pappas (This poem contains suicide.) Everyone owed me a call.That’s what she wrote,her suicide note of sortsposted on a sticky padattached to a boxof Christmas presentsshe never mailed out. That’s how it all works,isn’t it? We owe each otherthings: the book we borrowedlong ago that we kept holding…

read more...

A line of cars waiting in traffic.

Tuesday

By James Croal Jackson we again drink through tuesdayon a rooftop around the corner ofwhere we grew up watching trafficnearly crash into every other carat rush hour there’s no room forinterpretation at 6 pm everyonecomes home from work crankythis fucked economy of wakingto pay bills a sunrise for the rich

read more...

School hallway lined with red lockers

Making Weight

By Brittany L. McCann (This story contains disordered eating.) The numbers on the digital scale blur through my watery eyes as the Birthday Song is belted out in a possible worst signing voice contest down the hall. I wipe the back of my arm across my eyes and stare down…

read more...

An open road extending into the horizon

A Renaissance Among Scorpions

By Jason Weiland You can almost make out the color of my 1970 AMC Gremlin and the patina of the sun-baked paint combining into a shade that can only be described as puke-yellow. I’m stuck here and haven’t moved since dawn. Car’s pointed west, sure enough. A stretch of Route 66…

read more...