• Gerard Sarnat ~ Over My Stoned Cold

    1. 77‑Y.O’s New [Perhaps Clichéd] Organizing Principle

    Understanding
    Life’s entropy
    State
         After
    Making trek
    Higher up into
    Age’s
          Himalayas
    Where near air gets
    –more

  • Kyle Seibel ~ Cullen

    As a defen­sive mea­sure, Cullen had taped garbage bags to his win­dows. Black ones. Double lay­ered. He’d been awake since Tuesday. Hadn’t left the house since Friday.

    He told me all this in a calm voice. Maybe a lit­tle amused –more

  • Robert L. Penick ~ Three Poems

    After the Plague

    Dandelions rock­et­ed up
    from side­walk cracks,
    joy­ous, unrestrained,
    seeds of sun­light in
    fields of quiet.

    And the fish multiplied
    expo­nen­tial­ly, like
    God promised in some
    irra­tional book
    of ancient fiction.

    ~

    Encouragement

    A mes­sage for the horse-faced boys and girls
    –more

  • Marisa Cadena ~ My Guardian Angel

    I missed the bus to Tapachula by 15 min­utes. There wouldn’t be anoth­er until the fol­low­ing morn­ing, the robot­ic woman at the tick­et counter told me. I was try­ing to cross before dark, remem­ber­ing the fright­en­ing scene at –more

  • Robert Shapard ~ Best Boy

    I was just off my valet shift, 3 a.m., and I’d gone to a pan­cake house. This was in L.A., forty years ago. An old man land­ed in my booth, ka-thud.

    He was one of the most famous movie actors of all time.

    I didnt –more

  • Curtis Smith ~ This Heart

    A boy loved a girl, and when he could no longer live with his secret, he reached into his chest and pulled out his heart. The task wasn’t easy, the crack of bone, the cleav­ing of meat and ten­dons. The heart lay in his hands, –more

  • Kelle Groom ~ Micro-Stories

    EVERY ANIMAL

    It’s a zoo with­out obvi­ous cages, the ani­mals run­ning wild. People warned to stay in their cars, keep the win­dows up. But the lions are sleepy – one falls like a sack in the grass. It’s the ante­lope who watch us through –more

  • Three Pieces — Glen Pourciau

    Load

    On a brisk, windy Friday night I’m stand­ing out­side a resort hotel’s entrance where Betsy and I have just had din­ner, wait­ing for the valet to bring our car around, Betsy inside away from the wind, all three lanes jammed –more

  • NWWQ — October 2022

    NWWQ invites sub­mis­sions in the first two weeks of Jan, April, July and October and pub­lish­es in those same months.

    Many thanks to all who sub­mit­ted to the October issue.

  • Claire Hopple ~ Keep it Together

    We watch some­thing burn until we notice it’s our apart­ment. It’s where we’ve been liv­ing for the past few hours. Fortunately that means most of our stuff is still boxed up in the truck. No skin off our backs. We’re out on the sidewalk.

    –more

  • Ryan Griffith ~ 24 Hour Elevator

    To break down is what we’re designed for. Lungs, lan­guage, ele­va­tors. A per­son can only climb sev­en floors before they grow old, before extinc­tion, and it’s me they call. Shaman, doc­tor, repair man. An ele­va­tor is a machine –more

  • Carrie Bartsch ~ Bird Dog

    Randall Morgan pre­ferred to sit in the back row, whether it be
    in air­planes, cars, even the mega-whop­per-dare­dev­il roller coast­er at the
    Little Heaven amuse­ment park.  He was a cool play­er, didn’t say much,
    –more

  • Wilson Koewing ~ Seven Shorts

    Truck Stop

    We were dri­ving across coun­try back to Denver and lost Odie’s leash. He need­ed to go for a walk and was young then and would run off. I pulled over at a Love’s Truck Stop in the mid­dle of nowhere Kansas think­ing they might –more

  • Joshua Hebburn ~ Bob

    We had spent many hours watch­ing peo­ple talk on the T.V.

    Well, Joan said. So we drove back.

    The hills were down to the earth. Each was a bare dirt heap, or a com­pli­cat­ed geo­log­i­cal jut.

    The trees—which we had known and liked –more

  • Kenton K. Yee ~ Six Poems

    MURMURATION OR BOONDOGGLE

    The meat in the pool—
    The rodent pecks the cat—
    The cat bleeds the bird—
    The bird drinks the dew—

    We’ve all seen this episode before.
    The cook­ie is red, the cook­ie is blue.

    The meat is actu­al­ly bread.
    The bread’s beet red.
    Red –more

  • Maya McOmie ~ Four Poems

    Rumor

    If you speak of me, I’ll be sneez­ing. The devil
    is spo­ken for, and so am I. Each gos­sip, each
    rumor: if only it were true. Usually no one
    cares enough about me to say any­thing, kind
    or cru­el. Since I sneeze so many times in –more

  • Julie Esther Fisher ~ Gargoyle

    English, cock­ney at that, the squadron of chil­dren are killers with their for­eign tongues. A new school for the American… At sev­en, she under­stands scarce­ly a word of what they say.

    The man in the black suit is her father. –more

  • Stephen Barile ~Three Poems

    ANCHOR HOTEL

    a four-sto­ry brick hotel
    at 90 Alexander Street in Gastown,
    the orig­i­nal settlement
    and old­est part of the city,
    close to the Port of Vancouver,
    was built in 1905
    to serve the itin­er­ant male pop­u­la­tions
    –more

  • Jack Buck ~ Temporary self-directed activities

    Went down the Colorado River, got out and camped along the way. A two-per­son tent for the group wasn’t large enough, so instead, we stored all our belong­ings inside the tent, elect­ing to sleep out under the stars. Our bod­ies –more

  • Mike Andrelczyk ~ The Laundry Room

    It was a slow day at the hotel. I kept check­ing my walkie-talkie to make sure it was on. I went down to the laun­dry room.

    What’s up Mr. Moneybags,” Olivia said. She thought it was fucked up I got tips for doing a job –more