Two Poems | Jeff Whitney

What Happens in Hour Four? I’m paying attention to the lyrics in this song  which go you can’t…always get…what you want…  but if you try…you get what you need. I’m paying attention

U up? | Charles Byrne

Dirty light in the tiny hours. Rubbed myself off on a fire hydrant in the shadows. For want of a more accessible protuberance. It was the old night terroirs had me up.

blue | Tomaž Šalamun

Translated from the Slovenian by Brian Henry healers  /  flat sky  /  flame gifts for the hill  /  dachshunds blue cellophane  /  blue color of bread blue white walls  /  dante blood

I Have Wasted My Life | Stephanie Cawley

I do understand what would drive someone to chart their loneliness on a grid. I do understand the precipitous tower of books relies on  labors paid and unpaid, mine and others, in

ARMADILLO | Daniel Scott

Nobody said anything outright but there was always some insinuation. Maybe their eyes wouldn’t blink, or their voices went high as they tried to sound like they weren’t at all alarmed to

The Dead are Gods | Eirinie Carson

this essay was first published in THE DEAD ARE GODS (Melville House, 2023) I am not really a believer. I suppose the best way to describe myself would be atheist, but then

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