After Jennifer S. Cheng 1: the sea captured in a glass 2: a homophone for having enough for leftovers, a synonym for abundance 3: the fish, who have already forgotten you. It’s not personal 4: where memory fails, there’s still imagining 5: you. Not as an ocean but outside 6: glass and/or acrylic
Read MoreAll of us at Sonora Review want to invite you to our double issue release party this Friday (10/12) at Antigone Bookstore, 7 p.m. We’ll have pizza & wine, & readings from four of our amazing contributors.
Darryl Vickers isn’t hearing the frog sounds he’s listening for. He and Jansen are waist deep in a reeking swamp, recording ribbits. Frustrated, Vickers tromps around and chases the frogs. He manages
Non-Contest Submissions: “Desire” (Issue 75) UPDATE: We have re-opened non-contest submissions for fiction, nonfiction and poetry for the next two weeks, until Saturday, November 10th, 2018. Submit! Contest Submissions: “Desire” (Issue 75)
Today we announce the opening of our 2018 fall reading period in fiction, nonfiction, and poetry! We accept submissions of four to eight pages in poetry, up to 6,000 words in fiction, and up to
Today we announce the opening of our 2018 fall reading period for flash prose! Please submit work 1000 words or less. Due to their length and higher frequency of publication, these pieces
Corey is teaching me how to shoot his father’s gun. We haven’t got bottles or cans to shoot because Corey’s dad would notice anything missing from his liquor cabinet. He keeps that
The 45th President of the United States and I went to Baskin Robbins. I got a mint chocolate chip milkshake and the 45th President got a hot fudge sundae with chocolate ice
The poems I prefer to read are by writers who have been dead for at least fifty years. The poems remain venomous, but the writers don’t care if you put them in
First my step-mother died, and then my father started talking about his new friend Lamar. Lamar collected rocks for a schist garden, bottle-raised a bear cub till it was time to let
My mother’s little treasure lay hidden in a blue, faux leather jewelry box, just large enough to have once held a ring or, perhaps, a pair of earrings. I found it nestled