• Kate Finlinson ~ Exaltation

    We were young Mormon girls incu­ri­ous about good groom­ing, resigned to greasy hair that stuck to our fore­heads and dan­druff from the dry salt air, itchy in our desert skin and mod­est in our dress. We were fas­ci­nat­ed with our flaws—even high­ly con­cerned –more

  • Meg Pokrass & Aimee Parkison ~ New Frontier

    Inspired by New Frontier by Donald Fagen

    My dad he’s crazy, but he’s smart, and he’s built a bunker to keep the plague, the reds, and the ram­pant fires away. We’re gonna have a shindig in here, he says, lug­ging in car­tons of beer, –more

  • Wilson Koewing ~ Cocktail Onion

    In the Summer of his 42nd year, D.B Welk was award­ed the Pritzker prize in archi­tec­ture for con­ceiv­ing a futur­is­tic apart­ment build­ing in Denver, Colorado with no park­ing spaces and no units larg­er than 300 square feet. He designed the struc­ture –more

  • Anon ~ Poetry

    Hey–is that you
    On a bal­cony in
    Some God-for­sak­en
    Foreign land, on
    A bal­cony in the
    High moun­tains
    With your feet up
    On a plas­tic chair
    Writing poet­ry?

  • Pavle Radonic ~ Billboards Up To the Sky

    Heartily sick, sick to the back teeth of these blast­ed Superdry sem­a­phores bear­ing down on every street and lane, whichev­er way you turn. A plague of dun­der­heads crawl­ing over the earth dis­play­ing their mem­ber­ship of the asso­ci­a­tion. Market –more

  • Motorboat

  • Mary Grimm ~ Rules for Resurrection   

    In those strange times, she began a new reli­gion, based entire­ly on the birds she could see from her win­dow. The win­dow was her tight view on the world, although it was no small­er than it had been. The world stretched beyond it, although it was no –more

  • Jerry Dennis ~ from Skills a Man Could Learn (Found Poems)

    Walk Like a Woodsman

    A woods­man walks with a rolling motion sway­ing
    to the step­ping side—it is chiefly a dif­fer­ence of hip
    action loose­ness of joints

    up-and-down knee action
    springy with rather rigid hips—

    car­riage erect
    pace long
    cen­ter of grav­i­ty secure
    –more

  • Mary Miller ~ Full

    Reprinted from Blip Magazine Archive Vol 13 No 4

    I’m at my cousin’s house, watch­ing her fix din­ner for her twins, who are try­ing to toss them­selves out of their high­chairs. When I take care of them, my only goal is to keep them alive but I don’t –more

  • Matt Schroeder ~ Five Poems

    Samo je Početak
    
    Already there is a man
    in my mouth waiting
    to lay eggs in
    –more
  • Sean Ennis ~ Two Short Stories

    Me, the Kink

    Once again with the recur­ring dream where I am on an air­plane that lands on a busy city street and just dri­ves around, wings and all.  I have no insight into its mean­ing, except to say “anx­i­ety,” which, in my expe­ri­ence, is the source of all. –more

  • Bob Bartholomew ~ Coffee

    Reprinted from NWW, Summer 2012

    The week fol­low­ing his 60th birth­day, John Santo board­ed a train at Stuttgart, Germany. He was trav­el­ing alone. It was evening—the cold slapped the win­dow that pressed his cheek. The train jerked along and the side –more

  • Mikaela Grantham ~ Breakfast

    Question:

    If you run into the wife of the man you had an affair with, what do you say to her?

    Do you say:
    a) I am sor­ry fucked your hus­band, that was a real­ly dumb thing for me to do.
    b) If it makes you feel bet­ter, it all came back around –more

  • Pavle Radonic ~ Merciless

    Nonfiction

    The Real Thing

    A few days ago the Chinese con­vert, cab­bie Cha, more than a lit­tle tedious with his long drawn-out sto­ries from one of the less rep­utable hadiths it may have been involv­ing talk­ing she-camels what­not. Totally igno­rant of pace and –more

  • Judy Brackett ~ Poems

    My Mother’s Song & Dance

    The pho­to, creased & torn, fad­ed, tells the sto­ry
    of my moth­er who sits on the porch steps,
    one of the babies on her lap.

    She’s wear­ing red wedge san­dals, a flow­ery cot­ton
    house dress & an apron (she nev­er wore pants).
    Behind her, –more