by Sarah Barber | Sep 24, 2014
For once the adults are not drunk on their supervisory capacity and the blue girl is alone on her yellow box promising a fine time with explosions that will snap like red birds from her hand. Although an illustration, she can read caution: carefully read other...
by Julia Knobloch | Sep 20, 2014
I. Of the Body’s Prophesy Thinning, you call it, the thing happening to or in his blood. Thinning: becoming less copious like: his hair and hunger, desire. Others call this red viscosity, send you searching for where it rose: Anglo-French...
by Mary Biddinger | Sep 16, 2014
Human Resources Are Limited I was dancing at a club called The Downtrodden Pony, but not for the money. I had green glitter and pink. The walls seethed with carpet, cages all wire like an immigration checkpoint. My arms resembled a tiger attack, a ruptured...
by Angie Macri | Sep 8, 2014
Revelations of the Star Wormwood, the star that falls, holds the bitter appetite of stars that bite on the edge of woods. The woods uphold the velvet night, a midnight blue pulled from the box of the new child at school, blue child, sharp as a new star. A star...
by Heather Altfield | Sep 2, 2014
The Pogrom There is smoke rising from the small valley where terrible things are burning—rafts of hard wheat, rooftop shingles, the dress you wore for a hundred yesterdays, crisp on the washline and twice as golden, a thousand arrogant indecisions that didn’t...
by Rochelle Hurt | Aug 26, 2014
Junkyard honeybees build a hive inside any refuse they’re given—given the queen is within: heart of a tire or headlight, gutted car door or gun rack, waxed slats of last year’s grill. Once hollowed, maybe bodies ask to be filled. Little scoops, the surgeon told me—to...
