• Fall Submissions

    Thanks to all who sent work for our July sum­mer issue post­ed below. We were much pleased with the mate­r­i­al and are proud to present the works we found most satisfying.

    As of October 1st we will be accept­ing mate­r­i­al for the fall issue which we’ll –more

  • Abby Frucht ~ Take Six

    Even after a day being parked at the trail­head, she has yet to dis­cov­er the name of the trail, this stretch of boot prints in mud from which wet­lands spew, the lake to one side and to the oth­er some tur­tles sun­ning in muck, –more

  • David Moolten ~ Five Poems


    My father sat a while under elms and moon
    before dri­ving off like the day we played
    tug of war with him and his suit­case on the porch.
    Hindsight is like long­ing through glass,
    every­thing clear but out of reach, hard­ly tit­il­lat­ing

  • Sean S. Bentley ~ Three Poems


    The Battle of Anghiari (1505) … often referred to as ‘The Lost Leonardo,’ …believe[d] to be hid­den beneath one of the lat­er [Vasari] fres­coes … in the Palazzo Vecchio, Florence. … a scene of a vio­lent –more

  • Pavle Radonic ~ Four Short Pieces

    1. Pearly White

    Bu M. was a fair way out­ta the usu­al pro­file. But this was Indonesia of course. The first morn­ing she rocked up 20 mins. late on the back of a motor­cy­cle, explain­ing lat­er she was delayed hav­ing brekkie with her hub­bie. –more

  • J. W. Goll ~ Three Pieces

    Poultry Mystery

    Within a few weeks of his return from Viet Nam, Butchie’s old­er broth­er gets a job as a heavy equip­ment oper­a­tor and a girl­friend, in that order. Jack enlist­ed to avoid an assault con­vic­tion and says this is more luck than he’s had in his life. –more

  • Keith J. Powell ~ Head Over Heels

  • Michael Rogner ~ Three Poems

    Not in Redwood Country

    this is sycamore country
    cot­ton­wood country
    the coun­try of waxwing bands trilling in privets
    the coun­try of parks with bag dispensers
    to pick up shit next to tents and herds of goats and a mech­a­nized army
    of bench­es hon­or­ing –more

  • Steve Gergley ~ One Man Band

    I was angry and sad and sick of my shit­ty life that was noth­ing but sleep and YouTube and work­ing the overnight shift in a refrig­er­at­ed ware­house, so I formed a one man noise met­al band and built a stu­dio in the base­ment of my house. Using my vast –more

  • Bruce McDougall ~ The Master Painter

    Just before noon she hears Raymond, the painter, call­ing from the bed­room. Come here, please, mis­sus, he says.

    She finds him stand­ing on a lad­der in the mid­dle of the room. He has spread tar­pau­lins over the floor and moved the bed and oth­er fur­ni­ture –more

  • Pavle Radonic ~ Wife No. 2


    What do her friends call her? Alba?

    — Alba can. Daroh can. Up to them.

    More than ser­vice­able English unex­pect­ed, learnt from her hus­band. Not a busi­ness type; psy­chol­o­gy major, Malaysian with PR. His sec­ond wife. –more

  • Donald A. Ranard ~ Two Flash Fictions


    Johnny Depp denies he ever threw Kate Moss down the stairs or hit her par­ents give DNA swabs to help iden­ti­fy chil­dren shot by Texas gun­man Khloe Kardashian offend­ed by rumors she had 12 face trans­plants I’ve had only –more

  • Julie Benesh ~ As Told To

    Occupation: self-care and waste man­age­ment. No
    des­tiny to ful­fill. Produce noth­ing but feces and fur.
    Work from home naked. Have a live-in with thumbs
    who hunts, grooms, sleeps with me, though she keeps
    strange hours and has –more

  • Josh Russell ~ Two Essays from Commonplaces

    For Robert F. Simon

    When I pay $7.99 to down­load a 1966 driver’s ed scare film I was shown in the sum­mer of 1984—The Third Killer, pro­duced by the Ohio State Highway Patrol and some­how star­ring Robert F. Simon, a char­ac­ter actor who played Willie Loman on –more

  • Jianqing Zheng ~ Five Poems

    Ode to Night

    Coldness plas­ters
    my hut
    with thick snow

    I quiver in bed
    like a fish
    caught and thrown

    on the ice
    to flop
    in des­per­ate throes.


    The Gradation of Our Being

    Day by day we wait to see
    seeds sprout into a fuzzy green

    and grow for a good harvest.
    We have nev­er felt

    the land has grown –more

  • Marilyn Abildskov ~ Bodies in Transit

    You have not yet recov­ered from jet lag when your neigh­bors in teach­ers’ hous­ing throw you a wel­come par­ty. You and two oth­er Americans just arrived to teach English here. After drink­ing, one of your neigh­bors presents each –more

  • Wilson Koewing ~ Six Shorts


    There is no gray, at least that I’ve wit­nessed, more depress­ing than the sky on those short win­ter days in the south where the sun nev­er ful­ly comes out. In Ireland, in the sum­mer, it can be a ter­ri­ble gray for days, but –more

  • Julian George ~ Three Poems

    Ashes to Ashes

                         For AJY

    I want you.

    I want you
    In your hip­pie vibe
    In your mar­i­jua­na haze
    In your tie-dye flat
    Shimmying like my sis­ter Kate
    (I wish I could shim­my like my sis­ter Kate)
    Begging –more

  • Sean Ennis ~ A Feature or a Bug

    Grace direct­ed me at dawn to get donuts, and it’s like every­one got laid last night, say­ing, “Good morn­ing,” and walk­ing their dogs.  Ah, to be loved, to be learned, to be lurk­ing about. The donuts are so unnecessary–I –more

  • Joyce Schmid ~ Poems

    (Speaking for WS Merwin)

    The date of my death
    turned out to be the Ides of March
    Paula no longer with me
    to insist I stay at home
    not there to warn me lions were being born
    and ghosts were shriek­ing in the streets
    and sim­ple skies were catch­ing fire

    I was too blind by then