MIGUEL’S SANCHO by T.S. Bender
T.S. BenderMIGUEL’S SANCHO It was some point early in August, a Thursday or Friday, some point at the end of the week that Miguel didn’t show up to work. And that morning, as the sun streamed into the garage of…
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BABY, SWEETHEART, HONEY by Katie Tonellato
Katie TonellatoBABY, SWEETHEART, HONEY Honorable Mention of the 2024 Cleaver Emerging Artist Award When I was young, they called me baby, sweetpea, honey, cherry pie, chubs. So often they called me these things, that when they called me my name,…
SUSPENSION POINTS by Julian Shendelman
Julian ShendelmanSUSPENSION POINTS “I suppose you could DM,” Marine said, staring into her clipboard. “Direct message?” “Dungeon monitor. You essentially walk around making sure people aren’t openly bleeding on the carpet. It’s a violation of our lease. Here.” She handed…
SALT PAINT by Claudia Monpere
Claudia MonpereSALT PAINT Tina and her sister, Meredith, are painting cats on the six-foot cardboard coffin. Tuxedo cats, tortoiseshells, tabbies, Maine Coons. Meredith is the real artist. Tina should have left her to it, sick of her sister offering advice…
EXHUME by Sofia Drummond-Moore
Sofia Drummond-MooreEXHUME The bog body lies on the light table like an oil spill made flesh. Curled on his side, knees drawn up, Avril can see the outlines of his once-bones under skin like leather. She can also see the…
AQUACULTURE QUARTET by Jess Yuan
Jess YuanAQUACULTURE QUARTET [1] to explain eyestalk ablation imagine floating mid face fallopian tube connecting to the ocular nerve ………….in your shrimp body ………….eroded by a losing economy overextending, deteriorating because blindness makes more babies in her ………….she grows fertile…
LIGERTOWN: HERALDIC ATTITUDE by Susan Goslee
Susan GosleeLIGERTOWN: HERALDIC ATTITUDE Ligertown —Idaho, 1995 Heraldic attitude —Photograph of lion 9 Goldenrod lines the creek like torches lighting the road to a garrison. Narrow banks shortbread-mold the lion’s spine and chest, but his red-gold mane floats out as…
THEY ARE CALLING YOU AND THIS IS WHAT THEY ARE SAYING by Michael Grinthal
Michael GrinthalTHEY ARE CALLING YOU AND THIS IS WHAT THEY ARE SAYING Honorable Mention of the 2024 Cleaver Emerging Artist Award In the unsolvable sun Of a yellowing year All of the newest tunes Of tiredness are rolling About in…
A CONSTELLATION OF ERRORS by Sophie Nunberg
Sophie NunbergA CONSTELLATION OF ERRORS Honorable Mention of the 2024 Cleaver Emerging Artist Award I study the events of my birth like astrologers do stars in the sky. I’m already late when, two days before I finally do break my…
HOW TO DRINK ENOUGH WATER IN WARTIME by Rebecca Entel
Rebecca EntelHOW TO DRINK ENOUGH WATER IN WARTIME You have finally logged out from your social media because it was making you physically ill. With less scrolling, you’re not getting more done. You feel bad news from journalists or emails…
AT ELEVATION by Ariana Kelly
Ariana KellyAT ELEVATION In mid-June after my sophomore year at Yale, I took a Greyhound bus from New Haven, Connecticut to Boise, Idaho for $59.00. The ride took three-and-a-half days, during which two people were kicked off in Ohio for…
SOMETIMES WE SPEAK TO OURSELVES by Peter Grandbois
Peter GrandboisSOMETIMES WE SPEAK TO OURSELVES in dead things other times we fit too many bodies into the meadow where the elk whistle and stamp it’s strange this book of burning leaves where snow sometimes settles inside like prayer other…
A SUDDEN GUST OF WIND by Darcy Lohmiller
Darcy LohmillerA SUDDEN GUST OF WIND We step out of the truck into a bright October sun and a howling wind. In the field we have chosen to hunt, thick stalks of grass flatten and shudder against the gusts. Our…
PROXIMITY by Sofi Guven
Sofi GuvenPROXIMITY When I get home, I start to make bread. I open my window curtains wide and prepare the ingredients. Buckwheat flour, salt, sugar, and yeast stored in jars, scooped out with a ring of measuring cups. The windowsill…
HOSPICE INTAKE by Luke Koesters
Luke KoestersHOSPICE INTAKE I close my eyes and jump / off a stone pointed cliff. / I’m back to falling / into the gulch below La Quebrada. / I was high diving / only four months ago. / I open…
THE DETRIMENT OF DOUBT by Hannah Smart
Hannah SmartTHE DETRIMENT OF DOUBT “Hello, I’d like to report a fire at the Gerry’s Pizza off West Ninth Street.” “Okay, and your name, sir?” “Gerry Parker.” “Could you describe the situation?” “I am seated in the restaurant parking lot…
EVERYWHERE THE WORLD IS GREEN AND DYING by Todd Robinson
Todd RobinsonEverywhere the World is Green and Dying 1 And shelterbelts of feeling, barn swallows flashing …
A MAN’S REACH SHOULD EXCEED HIS GRASP by J. Bradley Minnick
J. Bradley MinnickA MAN’S REACH SHOULD EXCEED HIS GRASP My mother arranged for us to walk to school together. I didn’t want to go to school; and, I especially didn’t want to walk anywhere with Kate Wheeler. Kate Wheeler was…
STAY ON THE LINE by Richie Zaborowske
Richie ZaborowskeSTAY ON THE LINE A tornado of nurses blew in. The whole maternity care team. Cracking commands. Swirling around. Wheeling your wife away. And when you stood to follow, they told you, no. To wait, and not worry. So…
MANGER, EMPTIED by Michelle Bitting
Michelle BittingManger, Emptied I saw the shepherds slogging through red dust,Their sandals kicked up a ruddy cataclysmWith palm trees sighing through green stars above. This was in Los Angeles where the active sitefeatured a bereft crèche, no babe front and…
FREEDOM TRAIL by Joshua Ambre
Joshua AmbreFREEDOM TRAIL In front of the visitor center, our tour guide adjusts his breeches. They’re slightly too tight to be family-friendly, but I’m relieved to have something to look at besides old buildings for the next hour. I watch…
RETROSPECTIVE by Marie Manilla
Marie ManillaRETROSPECTIVE Lena skids around the backseat as the cabbie rudely shifts lanes. Her gnarled knuckles couldn’t negotiate the seatbelt. The tunnel engulfs her, the hum and grrr. The weight of all that earth compressing her brain. But they emerge…
TRANSNESS AS PERPETUAL PAPERBOY by Gideon Huan-Lang
Gideon Huan-LangTRANSNESS AS PERPETUAL PAPERBOY Imagine: Victorian hand-me-downs, black suspenders, tweed-lined cap. And he is holleringabout the end of the world. Extra! Extra! Read all about it. Call him doomsday cult, the way he had broken his voice already—the Titanic,…