Category: Flavor Town USA

  • “When the Chicken Slowly Cooks You Back,” a short story for Flavor Town USA by Harrison Cook

    “When the Chicken Slowly Cooks You Back,” a short story for Flavor Town USA by Harrison Cook

    When my grandpa was on the farm, she snapped around one thousand chicken necks and in one day killed, boiled, and dressed over one hundred chickens by herself. Word travels fast in small town Iowa; hops county to county and before long my grandma, or more so the image of the frenzied farm wife snapping…

  • Danny Caine: Three Flavortown Poems from Vol. 9

    Danny Caine: Three Flavortown Poems from Vol. 9

    Last Will & Testament When I die bury me at Randall Park Mallbeside the pebbled fountain where coiny wateronce bubbled, by the stage where Tiffany sneakersonce danced and twirled. For the service set out rowsof Brookstone massage chairs so the whir of the Shiatsuhums as my Auntie Anne delivers a prayer through saltytears. Let her…

  • Tales from the Crust, an anthology of pizza horror edited by David James Keaton & Max Booth III, reviewed by Ann Davis-Rowe

    Tales from the Crust, an anthology of pizza horror edited by David James Keaton & Max Booth III, reviewed by Ann Davis-Rowe

    I love pizza. I could eat it at least every day, perhaps even every meal. So when I had the opportunity to review Tales from the Curst: An Anthology of Pizza Horror, edited by David James Keaton and Max Booth III, I was stoked! But also, admittedly, a little concerned—what if these stories turned me…

  • Fiction by Marcus Pactor: “Cake”

    Fiction by Marcus Pactor: “Cake”

    —after Blake Butler The cake reminded me of the twins’ wet sludge food. I could never shovel it well enough for them. My wife often replaced me halfway through their meals, as a mercy. I did not slice, then, so much as scoop dessert into a bowl. It tasted of egg and hair. That last…

  • Fiction: Peter Clarke’s “Untitled in B”

    Fiction: Peter Clarke’s “Untitled in B”

    My refrigerator in its old age sometimes quivers and hums when its fan turns on. The quivering is completely insignificant, but the humming, I’ve found, is B, the musical note. It’s not sharp or flat; it’s a perfect B. Just like the fan in my crotchety refrigerator, anything that moves fast enough will begin to…