Poetry by Adam Doniger NEGATIVE BOTANY (I ALMOST WEPT) plants do not actually sleep nor do they lie or even bluff they do, however, expose their genitalia (Anne Carson) I climbed the tallest mountain in New York in the middle…
Nonfiction by Lisa K. Buchanan THANK YOU, COCO CHANEL Nobody had to tell us it was healthy. We were teenage TV watchers, California girls up on the latest—margarine instead of butter, baby powder for hygiene, lite cigarettes. A suntan meant…
Fiction by Jodi Paloni BLING LIKE STARS Sparrow’s little brother hums at the kitchen table and talks about what it would be like to float on a giant Cheerio as an inner tube, kicking up the milky sea whenever he…
Nonfiction by Ess PokornowskiHAUNTED Witch It is Halloween night in Ypsilanti in 2020 and I am in the upstairs bathroom of our big, blue farmhouse. This is the pandemic Halloween–the year we are desperate to share, to be in the…
Nonfiction by Rhea Borja CONDIMENT SANDWICH You are hungry when you wake up. You are hungry when you go to bed. But you are the most hungry after school, when you come home to an empty house. First, scout the…
Poetry by Matt Thomas EPIPHANY Those times the light is uncertain, forgets to lick and mother the shapes of the world usually homogenous, become brittle and brail speaking in sharp little barks A fluorescent second in the grocery store maybe,…
Poetry by Derek GrafGENE THERAPY Carrion beetles swarm the distant river. Her father erodes from cancer, his slow death grinding its teeth. She steps inside a shower full of leaves. Within the host cell she hears herself screaming. An actual…
Flash Nonfiction by Vicki Mayk WHAT I WANTED TO SAY WHEN YOU ASKED WHY I LIVE IN AN OLD FACTORY Because my father grew up in a Pittsburgh house surrounded by warehouses near a river. Because his father was an…
Flash by Rachel TalbotSO FAR IN THE DISTANCE A box turtle hits the cold fireplace at dawn. The rousing smack on the hearth calls Glenda from bed. No easy feat, tentative morning legs needing time to feel solid. Her knee…
Flash by Jeff Friedman THREE MICROS Our Daughter’s Glow Our daughter Willow glows in the dark, not a pale glow either—enough to read a book by. Her light is gold, soothing. When she goes to the bathroom at night, she…
Poetry by Jeanne Obbard HOW IS A LILY BEST UNDERSTOOD Not forwards but backwards, its shape a bell curve in time. As heat, lowering; as thunder coming up from the south. As milk-white, as incarnadine, as burgundy, as wine, worn…
Flash Nonfiction by Brian Benson DON’T FIND ME Every hero needs an origin story, and in mine, I’m the size of a trash can, squatting in bushes, crying. I’m crying because I’ve just learned I can’t go to the circus…
Poetry by Marjorie Maddox, reviewed by Lynn LevinSEEING THINGS (Wildhouse Publishing) Marjorie Maddox’s newest collection of poems Seeing Things (Wildhouse Publishing, 2025) is a stylistic tour de force that sometimes directly and often slantwise bravely engages very difficult themes: an…
Fiction by Paul Cody, reviewed by Rachel Shaver WALK THE DARK (Regal House) From the very first sentence of Paul Cody’s Walk the Dark, we are primed for a story of discovery, not just for the main character Oliver, but…
Poetry by Jai Hamid Bashir, reviewed by Daniel MillsDESIRE/HALVES (Nine Syllables Press) Jai Hamid Bashir’s 2024 debut poetry collection, Desire/Halves, from Nine Syllables Press opens with the following lines from Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge’s poem, “Consciousness Self-Learns”: World is undivided, observer and…
A Poetry Craft Essay by Bunkong Tuon On Writing “What Is Left” and How a Poem Remembers and Speaks My poem “What Is Left” picks up where my other poem “The Carrying” ends. “The Carrying,” which is about my uncles,…
Fiction by Hildur Knútsdóttir, translated by Mary Robinette Kowal, reviewed by Dimitris PassasTHE NIGHT GUEST (Tor Publishing Group) It is rare to encounter a novel of the horror tradition that dares to abstain from the trademark visceral descriptions and gore…
Fiction by Kay Chronister, reviewed by I.S. Nugent THE BOG WIFE (Counterpoint Press) The Bog Wife begins with a burial and a missing monster bride. For centuries, the Haddesleys, an ancient and noble family, have lived on a cranberry bog…
Interview by Catherine ParnellAN INTERVIEW WITH JOEANN HART, AUTHOR OF ARROYO CIRCLE (Green Writers Press) In her latest novel, Arroyo Circle, JoeAnn Hart explores the climate crisis. What does it mean to address climate change and our complicity in today’s…
Fiction by David Lydon-Staley PRODIGAL SUN “What time dya say he was comin’?” I asked the wife. I had the teapot and some cups out. But should I get the kettle boiling was the question. For it to be ready,…
Flash by by Zoé MahfouzLEGIONELLA BACTERIA Dear Landlord, I have to admit I was rather appalled by your tenancy agreement. I quote: “We confirm that we believe the Premises are safe and free from legionella bacteria,” really? What is it…
Nonfiction by Ellen Wilson HIGHWAY 90 We made the drive for the first time on Thanksgiving morning. My one-night stay was planned, but I had to be admitted through the emergency room, and our thinking was that by leaving in…
Flash by Tracie AdamsWE DON’T TALK We have a pact, an unwritten and unspoken one. We don’t talk. Unless you count that one time every year when I call you and we chat for over an hour while your hair…
Nonfiction by Barrett Warner A FEW UNTIED ANGELS AT DUSK Once so obvious and common—consumption now wears many disguises. It can live in an elbow, pretending to be bursitis. It can lodge in the brain or spine, like a migraine.…
Flash by Eden RoyceYOUR CHILDHOOD WAS WITCHCRAFT Remember? When you licked the blood from your scraped knees and elbows, cleaning your wounds like an animal would, the taste of metal and salt on your tongue. The pulse of pain lessened…
Flash by Connor FisherTESTIMONY I never touched the horse in question, although, at various points in my life I have, largely against my will, been made to saddle, groom, ride, and stroke horses. I did once approach the horse—an allegedly…
Nonfiction by Pamela BalluckTHE HYPHENATE I hyphenated my last name on my front-porch mailbox after a harebrained ex-boyfriend from my teens (he then in his late twenties) found me on the Internet in the twenty-first century, persistently emailed (despite initially…
Fiction by Jeff GabelSPITFIRE My mother-in-law believes in signs. She believes in synchronicity and premonition. This wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for her obsession with death. When Neil and I told her we were naming our girl after…
Flash by Jeffrey G. MossYELLOW It is a late October afternoon, darkness coming on quick, and Phyllis DeLuna, one of three widowed sisters who live across the street, is standing on her front stoop waving me over. “We’re putting the…
Poetry by Christopher David Rosales[ABUELITA PLANTING JARS AT BASE IN RATTLING CANE,] Abuelita planting jars at base in rattling cane,whisking lilies, to allude your curve. A pedal in rotation only hints, spoked light, foot flat in utterance, shoestring. To you…
Fiction by Lindsey Godfrey Eccles WHEN MOUNTAINS WERE PEOPLE Long ago when mountains were people there were two sisters, each so tall her forehead touched the sky, and each so beautiful that anyone who saw her stared in wonder. Between…
Poetry by Elly Katz DUPLEX dark is darker than I remember was it a dream or a memory? rescue me from these shadows on the undersurface of spiral threads nude twists and turns mounting dismounting that called off glowing ground…
Nonfiction by Margo SanabriaHARD TIMES, RACE, AND CLASSIC MOVIES By the time I was ten I was a classic movies devotee. It still makes me smile to think of an African-American child with cat-eye glasses, three pigtails, two in back…
Poetry by Bradley J. Fest2023.32 Soaring amaranthis getting you down on the floor again? Diane Seuss’s long line’ll [1] set things right while hazarding the new kinds of loneliness. The body that is your body is and always has been…
Fiction by Krista Puttler ORIGIN STORY Mama, where do stories come from? They come from a dog’s ear. No, they don’t! They come from your fingertips! You mean fingernails. No, I don’t. Pens, pencils, keyboards… Blood, pain, anticipation… What are…
Poetry by John Minczeski LITTLE ODE TO TAKING THE DOG OUT The last trip to the yard for the night, temperature not minus anything just now. The day, having lost its train of thought, clung to twilight like a lamprey.…
Flash by Jessica KlimeshTHE BODY SHOP I find a pair of arms in my size and put them on, then exchange my middle-aged ears for some keener ones since Lyle says I don’t listen, says it’s just one of my…
Flash by Coleman BigelowBECAUSE AT LEAST WE DRINK FRESH ROAST When we first dropped out of design school, coffee was our everything—the intoxicating grounds providing just the jittering jolt our imaginations required. Each sip sending us bareback on burros ascending…
Flash by Kiely Todd RoskaGOD’S LOVE IS TWO WOMEN FROM A QUILTING GUILD IN MISSOULA, MONTANA You fly halfway across the country to clean your mom’s house and plan her funeral. She died by suicide a week and a half…
Poetry by Herman BeaversTRUE NORTH Sidereal & reassuring, lightattired in the color of plums.Aching with sap, the trees’throb of sweetness’s likea ghost vexing me. Grass browningunder its pointed stare,a ground hog, back curved amongthe sycamore leaves, presses closeagainst the gravel,…
Nonfiction by Judith Serin THE HOUSE WITH WALLS OF HONEY in memory of Herbert Yee and 39 years together The house with walls of honey. Bees swarmed into the house and we let them stay. Their buzzing lulled our sleep.…
Fiction by Sinclair Cabocel THE ARMAGEDDON SURF CLUB When the trumpets sounded, Monica was propped up on her elbows, watching Mateo shred from the sandy shore. The other beachgoers swiveled their heads, as if they might find some passing band…
Poetry by Anders HowertonAI, THE END We had done it before with skylines,migrations, lasagna, and this too was alive, a chamber of neurons, layered like we are. Everyone ever known now looms before us. It rose like a scaffold, part…
Clifford Thompson ON THE OTHER HAND… (PART 2) Read ON THE OTHER HAND… (Part 1) Clifford Thompson’s books include What It Is: Race, Family, and One Thinking Black Man’s Blues (2019), which Time magazine called one of the most anticipated…
Nonfiction by Michelle Ephraim, reviewed by Benjamin SelesnickGREEN WORLD: A TRAGICOMIC MEMOIR OF LOVE AND SHAKESPEARE (University of Massachusetts Press) The genre of second generation Holocaust survivor memoirs has grown vast with contributions ranging from graphic novels like Maus to…
Nonfiction by Nicole Treska, reviewed by Monica WendelWONDERLAND (Simon & Schuster) Some memoirs feel like stories told in a therapist’s office. The white noise machine, a box of tissues, predictable healing arcs. Other memoirs can feel braggy, like the writer…
Poetry by Lisa Grunberger, reviewed by Angelina SciollaFOR THE FUTURE OF GIRLS (Kelsay Books) Think about the first time you ran your hands over a relief map or globe—likely as a child in elementary school—and consider how your palms encountered…
M. LinA PERSONAL ARCHAEOLOGY OF SOUND AS TOLD IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER Honorable Mention of the 2024 Cleaver Emerging Artist Award 1989: 乾你娘 – ‘gan4 ni3 niang2’ – ‘gan’ in the 4th tone meaning fuck. As in ‘you motherfucker’ If…
Oona PatrickTOSTA MISTA/MIXED TOAST On my first trip to Portugal, I ate tosta mista, or mixed toast, nearly every day because it was the only sandwich I knew how to pronounce. The mista distinguishes your order from cheese toast or…
Alex RostTHE BLUE PEN I’m writing this with a blue pen. Traditionally, and consistently, I’ve always been a black pen kind of guy. I think most of us are. You can say that about a lot of things. You can…