Issue number one is now available to read. The twelve authors featured in this collection include emerging and established writers from around the U.S. and abroad. You’ll find fiction by Danielle Susi, Jønathan Lyons, Jude Bridge, Killian Czuba, Owen Wynne Jones, and Siamak Vossoughi; poetry by Aimee Herman, Alan Catlin, harvey ellis, Sharon Coleman, and Steve Light; and an essay on a personal kind of hybridity by Gyasi Byng.
Bark infected like homeless mother’s limbs with skin weathered from winter and bed bugs.
Go outside. Write about it.
I stare at an open field and search for the bodies held captive by tall wheat or poison ivy.
Visit amusement park for children called zoo. Write about it.
I see an elephant and describe its skin as heated crust. I count each fracture disrupting the smooth. I call it monster call it mammal of wild grey call it me in the evening when enough bodies have rubbed against me to feel bloated and heavy, a swell of weight.
Climb up staircase of memories in body. Question what needs to be questioned.
Why do humans violent away their childhoods?
Treat body like leftover supper and microwave toward normal
I want to remember the days when nothing occurred.
elephants are contagious.
warhol’s rorschach could be man-eating fallatio or four-legged mammal dissected or a crime scene of AIDS on body or just some paint on canvas.
why that woman has 2 am eyes with nose like ladder without the foot breaks.
arrive with DNA waving against floorboards, fallen from head shake.
some feet are abusive, turning rock granules called sand into concave whimpers.
she dies: too much evaporated cane juice bruised into peanut grind and what it feels like to call a spoon murder weapon.