#120: Poetry by Glenn Ingersoll
I Can’t Dance I want to devilwith your danceI said my devil, my danceshe said I wish I could danceI saidI wish I could dancelike…
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#119: Book Review by Danielle Ariano
Review: The Deceived Ones by Judith Krummeck by Danielle Ariano The tricky part for any contemporary writer adapting a play from Shakespeare’s canon is that to…
#118: Nonfiction by Justin McDevitt
Minimum Fifteen Like any stubborn person, I only checked the weather when I was already outside. Tonight was no exception, only it was a blizzard.…
#117: Poetry by Inga Piotrowska
VANILLA the moment I realize I’m empty and feel nothing iswhen the ice cream man asks me about what flavour I wantand I don’t know…
#116: Fiction by Laura J Morris
Spatch-Cock’d I stuff the chicken. One hand up and under its skin. My fingers pushing the soft buttery mixture between its skin and flesh, massaging,…
#115: Erasure Poems by Justin Hamm
Sources Like a horse: Erasure from “The Dead,” James Joyce, Dubliners Her name was: Erasure from “Araby,” James Joyce, Dubliners Justin Hamm’s most recent book…
#114: Nonfiction by Ruth Neuwald Falcon
EVERYTHING WANTS TO LIVE (Photo credit: Sue Robin) It took my father a very long time to die. He started shortly before my eighteenth birthday…
#113: Poems by John Dorsey
HARRY DEAN STANTON CHANGES THE OIL FOR SID HAIG this is the motorcycle movie that roger corman never madea country on firefull of slow rolling…
#112: Fiction by Siamak Vossoughi
NEW IN TOWN I had moved to the kind of town where if during the course of normal conversation, the question of where I was…
#111: Nonfiction by Yvonne Wakefield
CUNTSVILLE.ORG That churlish smirk made me look down, not in submission, but in search of a shattering vessel to address her kisser. The perfect hourglass-vase…
#110: Three Poems by Theodore Worozbyt
HOURS The bruises change with the hour. You lie in bed listening to the Lloyd Cole the semi-invented Russian did or did not send across…
#109: Fiction by Krissi Stocks
MOUNTAIN ASH Iris was determined. She would stay here until her fingers froze and her lips turned blue. A nine-year-old popsicle. She remembered reading a…
#108: Nonfiction by Joanne Furio
YOU ARE MY CANDY GIRL “I want a quarter pound of nonpareils!” She was my grandmother’s age. Wore the same cat’s eyeglasses and navy polka-dot dress.…
#107: Nonfiction by David James
ELEVATOR OPERATORS AND PILOTS We were cruising west under a moonless dome of stars against the usual nighttime flow of heavy traffic bound for Europe. Our…
#106: Nonfiction by Lindsey Wente
SLUTS DON’T HAVE BABIES It’s Christmas on the Wente side, which means it is January, Grandma Kathy is making chicken and rice, and everyone I’ve…
