by Michael Hudson | Jan 16, 2014
Back when I was worse than harmless, she loved me, I think, after I’d spent six weeks disintegrating myself all over her floor. But who wouldn’t pity such sorry trade goods? Great stuff! I’d insist, an agent who believed his own junk, guilelessly swindling the...
by Sarah Messer | Jan 8, 2014
I don’t remember the coyote or how I woke here not remembering my body or the shape that your hand left inside me. Desire on the nightstand like an empty claw and the candle reflected in the dark glass behind the curtain. And beyond that, the sound of coyotes in the...
by Kirsten Clodfelter | Dec 30, 2013
I. The thought of you: Wild. Spreads and inhabits. In my mind, as you are in our shared days, uncontained. You heat through each neuron, the six letters of your name in lights. The fragile dendrites spark electric, every branch flooded with your current. Saturation as...
by Natalie Young | Dec 20, 2013
Out it comes, equinox-crossed and it’s winter again. She holds her breath. The aliens haven’t adjusted well. They carry inhalers, wear masks. State-issued warnings: Avoid driving, stay inside. None of this air is translucent. It turns and it turns out this city’s in a...
by Donald Platt | Dec 13, 2013
I’m walking on the dead, treading them down to nothing but the crackling scraps of fiery leaves I kick to extinguish them. Urbin Fiers Bertha Dick Mykola Markovsky Pieter Ombregt Margaret Menino. I read yesterday their handwritten names on one page of the...
by Julie Marie Wade | Dec 5, 2013
If the Earth is a hotel room and humans are the rockers who trashed it, the Moon regrets that cosmic management has not procured the imprint of a mortal credit card. The Moon and its subsidiaries are taking a look at the Moon’s own violent...
