Juana Catarina by Robert Kostuck November. Morning light. The riverbank crumbles beneath the edge of the house, the river sings lullabies twenty-four hours a day. “Give me a cigarette,” says Juana Catarina. “And keep that hijo’eputa out of the room for an hour or two....
When Zac, 32, Strolls In IRL by Francine Witte he looks nothing like his profile pic. For one, he’s wearing a fake mustache. For two, his hair is blonde. He recognizes me, of course. I’ve gone to great lengths to look exactly like my profile pic, which is me in my...
IDOL by Heather Sweeney the dead sky augments my crossed out kingdom find me in the weeds of Plath in the carpet of a gold Camaro call me canned stew singing for a contest on television a crater of disenchantments in the foreground call me plated paranoia an idol in a...
Perceived Distance by Kelly R. Samuels There’s what resembles the smell of burnt hair, that eveningwhen that girl bent over that candle on that table and we all turnedfirst at the sight and then could not forget because of the stench.Bright flare, fetor. On the...
Still Life with Splenectomy by Mingpei Li B.’s cat died today 10 years old sudden:a heart attack after surgery. When G. told me I was reading about splenectomy: how you got that smoothred scar on your torso [that I have tilled as if it could be a field] its...
