Category: Print Archives

Poetry: Three Dead Wrestler Elegies by W. Todd Kaneko

The Grand Wizard of Wrestling Can Make You a Man The Grand Wizard can take a boy outof his everyday skin, clothe him in quasarand chrome, in husks left by constellationsbefore they rose to Heaven. The Grand Wizard stands by your side,cackles in your ear, turns your wishesinto promises, into bare knuckles. The Grand Wizard…
Fiction: Brett Beach’s “Eastside”

The missing boy lived a block over, in the part of town where children often disappeared. This was in May, when you folded back your jeans to show me pink lace. Your skin was shadow beneath my fingers pressing toward warmth. Your mouth to mine, I joked that you were trying to steal my breath.…
Fiction: “You Shouldn’t Have Done It” by Ace Boggess & Jennifer Lynn Hall

Warren watched her stagger along the riverbank, drunk or maybe crazy. He thought about the definition of ‘alone’—a series of basic words that would’ve tumbled with her as she nearly fell. His legs buckled when she leaned. If she jumped, he thought, it would be his lungs that filled themselves with water. He looked at…
Three Poems by Nate Marshall

landing Surprise escapes your lips as you soarinto the sinking of having your shinskicked from under you. If you’re luckythe full nelson that folds arms origamiwill keep your knees from crashinginto the concrete. Your flight will bebrief. Pray you have enough timeto kick back into the kneecapof the third assailant. If the fourth memberof the…
Four Illustrations by Jon Read

*Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. Smoke Signals Inside Fun Lake Mutant Love Mutant Attack A native of Cleveland, Ohio, Jon Read is a graduate of Kent State University. His style is influenced by visionary folk art and neo-expressionism. His paintings portray a strong narrative, telling stories heavily influenced by comic books, cult films,…
Fiction: “A Texas” by Laura Ellen Scott

Bonnie & Jack Bonnie collects Jack from rehab. Fucking bougainvillea everywhere. “Thanks.” He slides into the passenger seat, tosses a half-empty duffel into the back of the white pickup and says, “Jesus.” He can’t believe it, the day, Bonnie, anything. He’s out. She can’t really bring herself to it. It’s east Texas, wet and hot.…
Fiction: Trent England’s “Patience Is the Most Passive Discipline”

The woman walking toward me is not the woman I last saw four years ago. My wife exits the airport terminal in fatigue pants and rubber sandals, her hair held back in a military bun. She wears a t-shirt with the phrase Present Without Pay written over it, and when I ask what the shirt…
Poetry: “A Slow Pickling” by Tara Boswell

a drowned and legless female {insert your animal here}how sweet watch her commitment to being a life raftno just a life vest c’mon you always wanted my hands around your neck right after I flip the kitchen tableupending everything we were preparing for breakfasttake notes one clove of garlic in each cheek take your medicine …
Fiction: Joe Baumann’s “A Paper House”

When we knock on your door only a week after your husband’s suicide, flashing our badges even though we don’t need to, telling you we’re here to check the walls for the girl’s body, the fact that you don’t even flinch makes us fall in love with you again. You step out of the way,…