by Marc Brimble
funny isn’t it
containing the land
but
Read More »by Patricia Asuncion
Dew’s coolness heightens anticipation as the canoe
slips into chocolate silk water like a slow, meandering
water snake coiling through cypress,
its tongue taking in all the primordial sensations.
by Christian Ward
The consultant called me
rain man because I conjured
downpours every time
my medication was due.
by William Cass
Carl pulled on his brown cardigan, gripped his cane, and left the house. It was just after 6am, the charcoal sky ink-washed over rooftops to the east. At the end of the driveway, the old man paused. He looked to the left at the streets he’d grown accustomed to taking on his morning walks, then pressed his lips into a thin, tight line, blew out a breath, and turned right.
Read More »by Julia Anderson
There’s nothing like a drought to make you apricate the miracle that is rain.Read More »
by Emily Strempler
“I know you’re proud,” the teacher says, stopping in the hall to deliver this gem of wisdom as she passes, “but I’d be a little quieter about it, if I were you. Boys don’t like girls who are too smart. Trust me.”
Read More »by Gabriel Langston
It’s quiet as the sun rises
the morning after.
I’m sitting by the shore,
waiting, holding my breath
and an old branch.
The bark turns to dust in my hands.
by Molly Kathryn Fisher
we sniffed the sharpie first. sniffed and snuffled and snickered i think i do feel a bit of something you guys because tina m. said the red sharpie’d take us somewhere over the motherfucking rainbow.
dizzy,
daydreamy,
and delirious on indelible markers, slip-sliding down the yellow brick road for
felt-tip phallic funny
fifth grade girl fun.
by Gabriel Graham Piessens
I’ve been thinking about what life isRead More »
What the point really is,
And I’ve come to the conclusion
That it is this: experience.
by Erin Schallmoser
sometimes you wake up in the morning and all you can know is the dark magic of still being aliveRead More »