• Callan Preece ~ The Virtue of Plastics

    Then he stopped want­i­ng sex. Then he stopped talk­ing much at all. At his worst he’d pace through rooms and the air would adhere and fol­low him and all the time you could feel all these thoughts going through his head—these images of syphilis and –more

  • Mercury-Marvin Sunderland ~ One Albino Bug Crawling On A Piece Of Moss

    One albi­no bug crawl­ing on a piece of moss.
    Long antennae.
    Simple legs.
    It jumps, fly­ing down onto a piece of pine.
    Walking across sand and grav­el. Crawls across a stick.
    A dead albi­no moth –more

  • Kim Chinquee ~ Catnip

    I fold the paper, wait­ing at the din­er. Sip my water, check my phone for the time. The guy is late: my date, who I met online. I look out the win­dow: the moon like clumps.

    The paper has a pic­ture of a guy want­ed for killing some­one in the trop­ics. –more

  • Jane Armstrong ~ Notes from Annabelle Next Door (age four)

    Scream as loud­ly as you can at ran­dom times, day or night, with­out shame or apology.

    Sing the music in your head with­out regard to melody or rhythm. Performing out­side announces your pres­ence and asserts your identity.

    Shout “Hi, neigh­bor!” –more

  • Kevin Tosca ~ Mature Concern

    A cou­ple of tall, healthy, pros­per­ous, fra­grant young Canadians, one from Winnipeg, the oth­er from Saskatoon, in my liv­ing room tonight defend­ing the idea of the week­end and their God-giv­en right to play a lit­tle club music on Friday night.

    I calm­ly –more

  • Pavle Radonic ~ Jakarta 1440H

    The Witching Hour

    The knock on the door came short­ly after 3. Wooden par­ti­cle board mak­ing the light rap resound, of course at that hour espe­cial­ly. In the days pri­or there had been some con­cern an illic­it arrange­ment on that side of Jakarta might not be met with a –more

  • Tao Lin ~ Meditation

    Somewhat com­plex grumpiness
    on the precipice of a beau­ti­ful world
    in a lov­ing, mag­i­cal universe
    sym­bi­ot­ic with virus­es and bacteria
    Persistent, intru­sive thoughts
    Chemical vir­tu­al realities
    Diatribing in pub­lic

  • Harris Lahti ~ Exquisite Corpse

    The back­yard gar­den is a fenced-in pool of murky black Jell‑O that sucks and belch­es up Heather’s feet as she col­lects its mon­strous and mishap­pen pro­duce into wick­er baskets—onions the size of bowl­ing balls, car­rots bent at right angles, apples –more

  • Corey Miller ~ zoo woman real bad

    She entered the tiger exhib­it as one of them; lick­ing her paws as if pricked by thorns, prowl­ing the lim­it­ed space, wait­ing for raw meat to plop down when and where it did every­day. the oth­er tigers observed her as an imposter, but the chil­dren around –more

  • Todd Clay Stuart ~ Accessories

    She was half angel, half angel dust, with eyes like coal mines that could cave in any time. Wore my dirty tee shirts straight off the floor. Wrote i love the fuck out of you in pur­ple lip­stick on the cracked bath­room mir­ror; keyed when –more

  • Solomon Ọládipúpọ̀ ~ Two poems


    chaos in town. a viral siege

    our words are wings fly­ing across cities
    you, there; me, here. us — two
    worlds a/part

    above, the sky thickens
    like the locust swarms of March
    sweep­ing through Nairobi

    down here, we await it daily -
    as the fig­ures roll –more

  • Fortunato Salazar ~ 504 Charlie 2020

    When he sowed, he’d been opti­mistic. Wow. He’d gone to the IHOP and done some seed genet­ics cal­cu­la­tions on a nap­kin. Majestic seed genet­ics cal­cu­la­tions. Now it was October and just look at that front yard. Misery. The cucur­bits could best be –more

  • Tatiana Retivov ~ Two Poems


    The air glim­mers with pollen,
    smog and haze. A meltdown
    of the sens­es. I think of tanks
    scur­ry­ing like mice across
    the bor­der. Armed fiends in green
    bring new mean­ing to being
    a sol­dier of (mis)fortune. All
    feel­ings –more

  • Ross McMeekin ~ The Face of God

    When four-year-old Doug threw his Jesus Christ orna­ment into the fire­place, every­one in the fam­i­ly jumped up at once, but his grand­moth­er Deb led the way. Deb was a retired high school English teacher with a beautician’s pos­ture and unusu­al­ly long –more

  • Wendy BooydeGraaff ~ Horizon

    She spent hours look­ing for the per­fect sink. Farmhouse sinks with enam­el apron fronts, vin­tage cast iron with attached drain­boards, stain­less restau­rant-grade util­i­ty sinks. She want­ed a lit­tle style, she told him, a lit­tle upgrade to what had rust­ed –more